


From a Forest of Bone and Blood

by Rainywriter



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, M/M, NOT a death!fic, POV Jensen, Supernatural and J2 Big Bang Challenge 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-17
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-05 01:30:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 52,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1800484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainywriter/pseuds/Rainywriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four strangers awaken in the forest of bone and blood to find that all they can remember of themselves - and each other - are their names. Soon Jared, Jensen, Alona and Genevieve discover that they can make plants grow one moment and utter spells to summon flame the next. After a harrowing encounter with a Witherkin, a creature born of chaos and dark magic, they decide to journey together to visit the fabled Oracle to see if she can help them.</p><p>Dryad. Wizard. Dragon. Soldier.</p><p>This is what they are, according to the Oracle. She sets them on a quest that will restore their memories and their true forms, but gives one final warning: Of the four, two will not complete their mission.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, and the characters portrayed within (while bearing familiar names and likenesses) are also completely fictional. This is not real and none of it ever happened
> 
> Just a quick note: With the exception of four interludes, this story is told entirely from Jensen's POV. I briefly entertained the idea of switching between POV's but that became quite daunting with four main characters. And yes, I do consider the girls to be main characters here as well as Jared and Jensen, and I hope I did that justice. Anyway, on to the credits and acknowledgements.

 

 

 

Everyone has a name. Jensen had a name.  
  
A name does not tell one much about oneself, but of his name Jensen was absolutely certain. That was, unfortunately, the only thing Jensen was sure of when he opened his eyes that fateful spring morning. Jensen knew his name. It wasn't Jared, or Alona, or Genevieve.  _Jensen_. He repeated it over and over in his mind – a silent chant of affirmation.  
  
 _Jensen. Jensen. Jensen._  
  
His eyelids fluttered open as his eyes adjusted to the bright sunlight of morning. It filtered merrily through the canopy of leaves above him, casting him in a green dappled hue. He could hear birds singing in the distance, chirping away madly while they no doubt searched the forest for their morning meals.  
Jensen lay where he was for a moment, simply allowing himself to breathe and let the fogginess of sleep clear from his mind. He blinked a few times and then pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly as the blood rushed from his head. He reached out and placed his hand on the trunk of the nearest tree. It was a small, spindly thing that bent somewhat under his weight. The movement caused the leaves overhead to rustle and a few flitted to the earth, dancing slowly on the breeze as they made their descent to the forest floor.  
  
Looking around Jensen saw that the trees stretched as far as he could see on all sides, all of them of a similar height and size as the one he now leaned against. They were young trees, narrow of trunk and short in stature. Jensen had no idea how he came to be here in this forest of young trees. Aside from his name, he knew absolutely nothing about himself. His name brought with it no other clues to his identity. It was disconcerting, to say the least.  
  
“My name is Jensen,” he said aloud. His own voice was a surprise – both lower and raspier than he'd expected it to be. As he spoke his own name aloud, a cool, gentle wind caressed his skin, from scalp to toes, and with it came an awareness of his body. He looked down at himself, cataloging what physical features he could without the aid of a mirror. He was tall, he realized. At least six feet, maybe more, and firmly muscled, but not overly so. He did not have the body of a warrior, but he was not soft either. His skin was fair and dotted here and there with freckles.  
  
His body forced itself into a stretch which caused all kinds of popping and clicking in his joints, but was strangely satisfying. Once the stretch was done he felt better, more settled into his skin. He ran a hand through his hair, noting as he did so the weight of it, the length and texture. Too short to be pulled forward, he had no idea of the color. Blond? Brunet? He let his fingers run down his face, attempting to learn his features as his fingertips danced over cheekbones (prominent) and his nose (slightly uneven in the middle). Still, his admittedly limited observations about his height and appearance gave him no insight into just  _who_ he was.  
  
Idly, Jensen wondered where his clothes were, and with that, all peace of mind fled as a jolt of panic coursed through his limbs. More and more questions sprang to mind.  _Why am I naked? Oh Gods!_  Worst-case scenarios raced through his head, and he checked for any discomfort in intimate places to see if he'd been violated. He wasn’t in any pain, and it became clear that despite being naked, he was uninjured and unmolested.  
  
 _How did I come to be naked with only a name here in this – this forest? Where am I, anyway?_  Upon realizing he was naked and didn’t know who he was – not really – the fact that he didn’t know  _where_ he was should not have been at all surprising.  
  
All of this uncertainty was making Jensen’s head hurt, and he considered lying back down and going to sleep. The patch of ground he'd been sleeping on was covered in soft grass and moss and had been quite comfortable. That was, if he had in fact been asleep and hadn’t just woken up fully formed from the earth.  
  
Maybe he was First Man in the Forest of Plenty, like in the myths. He shook his head, a wry smile at the absurdity of the notion curling the corner of his mouth. If he was First Man, then those other names wouldn’t be floating around the edges of his consciousness like bees around a hive.  
  
 _Jared. Alona. Genevieve. Who do these names belong to?_  
  
Feeling overwhelmed, Jensen took a wobbly step forward. As he did so, his world seemed to spin; his vision grayed out and what could only be memories swirled through his mind.  
  
 _Fire swirled in the fallow field. It licked across dry patches of overgrown grass, inching its way toward the trees.  
  
His trees.  
  
A great beast of a dragon reared back on its hind legs to send a plume of fire at the army attacking it. The fire hit its mark, consuming flesh and singing armor -- more and more fire to threaten Jensen’s forest.  
  
It came from all sides now and even as he flitted from tree to tree, stamping out the smaller flames, it wasn’t enough. His duty was to the forest, to protect the trees by any means possible_. I need to stop this,  _Jensen thought_. I need to protect my trees – I can’t let it kill me – Oh Gods, I’m going to die.  
  
He gasped for breath and fought off the dizziness as his mind slowly returned to him. Blinking through the sudden headache that had sprung up behind his eyelids, he forced himself to breathe slowly. He hadn't fallen during the sudden onslaught of memory, thankfully, but he was clinging to the nearest tree with all of his strength. He righted himself, but let his hand linger on the trunk. He couldn't say why, but it made him feel grounded, as if he had some sort of connection to the tree besides the obvious human touch.  
  
The bark under Jensen’s hand grew warm as he calmed down, and then it seemed to  _shiver_. He felt a small sprig of growth form under his palm, threading through his fingers and growing quickly out from the trunk of the tree. It didn’t look quite real as it stretched its way towards the sun, joining the other branches as if it had always been there. The growth of the branch was accompanied by a warm sense of satisfaction deep in his belly. He couldn’t help but smile up at his work. _My work_. Somehow, he knew he’d caused that – that it hadn’t been just happenstance that a branch had magically burst out of the tree.  
  
“I did that,” he said in wonder, his face turned upwards toward the sun. Behind him, he heard a laugh. Startled, he turned to face the source of that laugh and came face to face with another man. Jensen narrowed his eyes at this newcomer, trying ascertain if the other man was a threat. Jensen glanced around for a weapon to defend himself, if necessary and grabbed a branch from the forest floor, holding it out in front of himself. The other man seemed startled by Jensen's aggression, and held out his hands in a placating manner. Jensen lowered the branch, but remained on guard.  
  
"Who are you?" Jensen demanded to know. Nearly as tall as the trees and definitely taller than Jensen himself, this man could probably disarm and overpower Jensen. He was earth colored, from his unruly mop of dark brown hair and sun bronzed skin to his multi-hued gemstone eyes.   
  
“Look,” the stranger said, reaching out to the tree nearest him. His voice was soothing, like honeyed milk before bedtime. “I can do that too. What do you think it means?” The man demonstrated his words; a small new branch emerged from the bark to shoot upwards and burst forth with new leaves once it reached the canopy. A small smile came to the stranger's lips as he demonstrated his power.  "I'm not here to hurt you," he added.  
  
“Who are you?” Jensen said again, as if a name would let Jensen know whether or not it was safe to trust him.  
  
“My name is Jared,” the stranger replied, turning his face toward Jensen.  _Jared_. The name clicked into place and Jensen was glad to have a person to associate the name with.  
  
“Do I know you?” Jensen looked closer at the stranger – at  _Jared_ — desperately trying to place him. Jared returned the gaze. It was then that Jensen, who'd been distracted by the newcomer, remembered his nudity.  
  
Well, that was one way to make a lasting impression. Jensen considered reaching down and trying to cover himself with his hand for modesty’s sake – looked like he’d need both hands to do that – but it was a little too late for that. Jensen felt his face heat up in embarrassment. Jared wasn’t naked. Granted, he was  _nearly_ naked; he wore a pair of ill-fitting breeches of coarse weave and dyed dirt brown that weren’t quite laced correctly, but at least he had clothes on.  _Why am I naked?_  Jensen wondered again.  
  
“Maybe?” Jared mused, keeping his eyes locked on Jensen's. Either he'd already looked his fill at Jensen's body or he was trying to be polite. Either way that gaze was filled with intensity. “Who are  _you_? Besides naked, I mean. We should probably find you some clothes.”  
  
“Jensen,” he answered, trying to process all the words rattling about his skull. “I mean, my name is Jensen. At least I’m pretty sure it’s Jensen.”  
  
“Jensen,” Jared said the name as if he could taste it. He gestured with his right hand, a movement that seemed to encompass the entire area. “Do you know what happened here?”  
  
“I-I don’t know,” Jensen answered. Jared’s brow furrowed just a little and he pursed his lips. “All I can remember right now is my name.” And yours, apparently, Jensen thought.  
  
“Looks like we’re in the same boat then,” he said. “Let’s find you something to wear.”  
  
Jensen was confused but tried not to let on as he started to follow Jared through the trees. It wasn’t as if the trees were going to suddenly sprout clothing fit for him to wear – oh. He looked around and noticed, for the first time, small bundles of fabric littering the ground here and there. Some of the bundles were nearly ash, as if they’d been set on fire. A few pieces of charred armor lay here and there, glinting in the sunlight, and there were also little ash piles that may at one point have been clothing. Here the ground was charred. Jared bent over and started picking through one of the piles, coming up with a shirt which he discarded immediately.  
  
“Too much blood,” he mused, moving on to the next little bundle of fabric lying on the ground. Jensen stole a glance at the shirt Jared had dismissed, noting that yes; it was indeed covered in blood. Looking at the garment and thinking about how it could have come to be in that state made Jensen a little queasy. He was suddenly grateful to Jared – it seemed he was adjusting to this strange situation with a grace and poise that Jensen seriously lacked.  
  
“So,” Jensen said as Jared threw a shirt at him, “you don’t know what happened here either?”  
  
“No idea,” Jared said as Jensen struggled with the shirt. It had, at some point, been a nice white shirt with embroidery around the keyhole neck, but now it was stained and dirty, with patches of soot decorating it here and there. Jensen was just happy this shirt didn’t have blood on it. It was too big for him and hung past his hips, which he was also thankful for.  
  
“All I know is that my name is Jared,” Jared continued, picking up a pair of shoes, glancing inside and then tossing them aside in disgust. “Foot’s still in that one,” he said. “You probably don’t want that one.”  
  
“Yeah, no,” Jensen agreed. Jared proceeded to ramble on, both physically and verbally, and Jensen only halfway paid attention to him. Instead, he tried to take in his surroundings, wondering how the earth could look so scarred and war torn, yet the trees were pristine – no marks on them at all, no blood or ash or any other residue that would indicate a battle took place here. When Jensen started paying attention again it was only because Jared chucked a pair of long trousers at him that were in fairly decent condition, all things considered. Jensen put them on gladly, noting as he did that Jared had managed to find himself a shirt to wear as well. Jensen was tugging the trousers over his hips when Jared stopped short. Jensen nearly walked into him.  
  
“Oh, Gods,” Jared said, turning to face Jensen. Jared's nose was crinkled up and his eyes squinted in a look of displeasure. “Do you  _smell_ that?”  
  
Jensen inhaled, and regretted it immediately. The smell was reminiscent of a trash heap on a hot summer day, like composting feces and vomit all wrapped up together with a side of rotting cabbage and human corpses.  
  
“Jared, wait,” Jensen said, reaching out with one hand and grabbing the other man’s sleeve. His fingertips brushed against the skin of Jared’s wrist, and Jensen stopped breathing for a moment. For all he knew, this was his first human contact.  
  
But that was ridiculous. He was human, probably. He must have known the touch of his mother, at least. He shook himself from his thoughts as what presented in front of them was inarguably more important.  
  
“All the trees are dead.”  
  
Jared looked left, and then right. He turned back toward Jensen with a look of confusion on his features. In front of them the forest stretched on, but these trees were dead, just as Jensen had observed, their trunks bleached white and the leaves brown and withered. The grass and brush were dead, like weeds in summer. The moss was hard and dry and crunched when Jared took a step forward.  
  
“I – I don’t think we should continue forward,” Jensen said. He’d lowered his voice a bit, though he couldn’t say why. The area of dead forest extended in circle, and when Jensen let his eyes cast about he could see a trail of blight leading into the dead area and a trail of blight leading out. Jared noticed it as well.  
  
“Something  _caused_ this,” he said, his own voice lowered in pitch to match Jensen’s. “I don’t like this.” Jared slapped an open palm against his forehead. “I feel like I should know what this is – I should know what caused this but I – I don’t!”  
  
Jensen was a little unnerved to see his own emotions reflected so perfectly in another person. He also felt like he should know what caused this. A deep uneasiness roiled in his belly, and he took a step back.  
  
“Let’s turn back,” Jensen said.  
  
“Jensen, wait, hold very still.”  
  
Jared stood in front of Jensen, his expression unreadable and his hand held up to emphasize his point. Jensen’s heart jumped up into his throat.  _There’s something behind me_. The small hairs on the back of his neck prickled and the skin there grew warm, and that was when he realized with horror that whatever was behind him was close enough to be literally breathing down his neck. Jensen froze, afraid to even breathe.  
  
“Jared, what’s behind me?”  
  
“I-“  
  
“I should run, yeah? Don’t you think I should run?” Under normal circumstances Jensen would probably be embarrassed about the register of his voice and how it was steadily climbing. Jared nodded dumbly.  
  
“Yeah, um, yeah, we should probably run.”  
  
Jensen didn’t wait; he was off like a shot, running as fast as he could straight through the dead patch of forest. Jared quickly caught up, those long legs eating up the distance in a pace that almost made Jensen envious.  
  
Almost, because really, he had more important things to be worried about right now – like running for his life.  
  
 _Priorities_ , he thought.  
  
Jared quickly gained the lead and as he passed Jensen he reached out and grasped Jensen’s hand, tugging him along, urging him to go faster.  
  
Of course, that meant that when Jared’s feet tangled in long strands of dead growth and he tumbled into a copse of dried brush, Jensen soon followed suit, landing on Jared with enough force to punch the air from his lungs.  
  
It was then, while he was writhing around on top of Jared, trying to disentangle his own limbs from Jared’s that something new caught his attention. Lying on the ground next to them was a severed human arm, or at least it appeared to be. From just the elbow the skin began to change, rippling up into a coarse, wooden texture. It looked like bark. No, it  _was_ bark, and the earth underneath the limb was stained dark. The pinky finger on the hand had split in half length-wise, and had grown longer than all the other fingers, the ends of that digit splitting further into smaller and smaller appendages and – and that was definitely a  _leaf_ attached to end of one of the little offshoots. The leaf was dead, just like the arm it had been growing from.  
  
“What in the depths happened here?” Jensen asked, his eyes wide and his nose wrinkling in revulsion. Jared saw the severed limb ( _limb, that was never a more appropriate word_ , Jensen thought), and jerked away from it, a disgusted look on his face.  
  
“No time, Jensen, come on!”  
  
Jensen freed himself from Jared and found himself sitting on the forest floor staring in horror at the creature that slithered their way. Jared managed to pull Jensen to his feet at the same time he stood up, but Jensen couldn’t tear his eyes from the creature that pursued them. Monster would be a kind description – abomination was probably more accurate.  
  
It oozed along the forest floor toward them, almost languidly, but Jensen could sense determination in its movements. It was in no hurry to catch them, of that Jensen was sure. No, this kind of monster would simply run them to death and then devour them where they lay. It would probably eat them alive if they were unlucky enough to fall from exhaustion.  
  
The thing resembled a bloated, bleached earthworm, if earthworms could grow to be as long as several men stretched end to end and it was as big around as a wine barrel. Its skin looked like layers of old paper, torn from books and fashioned into scales. It left in its wake a trail of slick ooze, and everything that slickness touched withered before their very eyes. _This_ was what had caused the dead patch in the forest, and Jensen and Jared had just stumbled blindly into its path.  
  
“I think we’re trapped,” Jensen heard Jared say he spared a glance over his shoulder. Jared was correct. Judging by how much larger the trees were here they were backed up against an older part of the forest, and the vegetation had grown so thick that no human could pass through without some sort of blade. Jensen felt a ridiculous urge to fight the creature, to stop it by any means necessary so that it would not push past the barrier from new forest to old.  
  
 _I have to protect the forest. But how?_  
  
“We can’t let it pass,” Jared said, and Jensen heard his own death whispered with those words.  
  
“No, we can’t,” Jensen said, steeling himself. “I don’t have a weapon. Do you?”  
  
“No,” Jared said. “I should have found one. I’m so stupid!”  
  
Jensen felt the same. There had been piles of armor scattered about, surely there must have been weapons. He didn’t acknowledge Jared, but rather kept an eye on the creature. The worm approached with aggravating slowness, as if it were simply curious about them. Five protruding red eyes – two small eyes on either side of one large one in the middle – gazed at them as it slithered back and forth on its path, carving S-shaped furrows of decay into the earth as it edged closer and closer to the two men who had nowhere else to run. Its movements were disturbingly quiet, despite its large size and gaping maw no sound at all came from the creature to mark its passage. Jared reached over and grabbed Jensen’s hand once again, squeezing tightly. At least if they were going to die, they wouldn’t die alone in this strange place.  
Jensen suddenly wondered if he had a family somewhere who would miss him. Did he have  _children_?  
  
The sharp, unexpected crack of gunfire had Jensen hitting his knees and covering his head with his hands. Risking a glance up, he saw three holes open up in the worm’s side and a thick, creamy fluid leaked out – blood, perhaps, but unlike any blood Jensen had ever seen. That is, if he’d actually ever seen blood. There was no way to be sure.  
  
The worm jerked to the side, and its mouth opened, issuing forth a wounded cry of pain - a loud, rasping cry that sounded both injured and enraged. It was the first sound the worm had made since it had stolen up behind Jensen, and it was a horrible sound that made him want to cover his ears.  
  
“Don’t touch it!”  
  
“I know!  
  
The warning and response both came from female voices and Jensen looked around wildly to see where they were coming from. To his left he saw Jared, pressed up against the brambles of the undergrowth. To his right he saw a blonde woman, wielding a pistol and a look of fierce determination as she popped off two more rounds of ammunition into the body of the worm, which’d turned away from Jared and Jensen and now focused on the woman shooting at it.  
  
“One more bullet!” she screamed, firing once more. This bullet hit the monster directly in its largest eye, spraying red and white gore as it screeched and charged. The worm could move fast when it wanted to. Apparently it had just been toying with Jensen and Jared.  
  
Another woman, this one petite with long dark hair, appeared from the trees behind the worm, wielding a long, narrow sword with what looked to be practiced ease. She lunged at the worm, bringing the sword down in a bold strike at the flesh directly behind its eyes. The worm lurched, turning its body toward this new threat, and the woman jumped back, just in time. The thrashing creature hit a tree, which wilted like a summer weed in an instant. Jensen did not want to see what would happen if it touched a human.  
  
Jared pulled himself from his stupor and started pelting the monster with rocks, with surprisingly good aim. Jensen decided to try his hand at rock throwing as well, seeing as how he didn’t have any other weapons at hand. He hefted a good sized one in his hand, and with a yell he lobbed that rock directly at the worm, aiming for and hitting one of the smaller eyes. Hitting it with the rocks wasn’t going to do much damage, but Jensen hoped that it would at least distract it enough that the women could deal a killing blow.  
  
The blonde woman tossed the gun over her shoulder – it must have been out of ammunition – and drew her own sword, charging at the worm with a cry. The worm, now assaulted from all sides, obviously didn’t know which way to turn. Jensen would almost feel sorry for it if it weren’t such a great, ugly, decay-spreading creature of death.  
  
Wailing now, the worm thrashed back and forth, but all four in the impromptu party knew better than to let it touch them. Darting in and out, the women made quick work of the worm, hacking off its head with strong, sure strokes of their swords. Finally the monstrous thing lay in two pieces on the forest floor. The four people now left standing over its dismembered body just stared at each other, their chests heaving from their exertions.  
  
“Wow, thank you,” Jared finally said. “I think you saved our lives.”  
  
“Who are you?” Jensen managed to ask. “I mean, thank you. Of course thank you. You did save our lives. What was that thing?”  
  
All four of them looked at the ground where the worm was steadily decaying into the earth, sinking deeper and deeper until it was out of sight completely.  
  
“Witherkin,” they all said at once, and immediately it was obvious to Jensen what the thing had been. Of course it was a Witherkin. There was nothing else it could have been. Although Jensen now knew what it was, he had no idea how he knew that.  
  
“What’s a Witherkin, again?” Jared asked, sounding confused. His brow furrowed as he thought it over, and Jensen watched as the confusion seemed to clear. “I mean, yes, of course, Witherkin.”  
  
“Witherkin are born of chaotic, dark magic,” Jensen said, surprising himself. “Something bad happened here – bad enough to draw the energy to birth this thing. It was larger than most Witherkin, I think. What do you think?”  
  
The blonde woman was staring at the ground, her eyebrows drawn together. “Yes, that’s right,” she said, and the brunette nodded her agreement. “Nasty things.”  
  
“Perhaps we should introduce ourselves?” the brunette finally piped up. Her large brown eyes settled on Jensen. “Are you Jared and Jensen?”  
  
Jensen glanced over at Jared, gauging his reaction. Jared looked just as surprised as Jensen felt that this woman knew their names.  
  
“Who are  _you_?” Jared said, sounding curious and not unfriendly. “Are you Alona and Genevieve? Do we know each other?”  
  
“Yes, I’m Alona,” the blonde woman answered. She was dressed in a long dirty shirt which she’d tied a belt – or maybe it was a sleeve from another shirt – around, fashioning it into a very short dress that showed off shapely legs. Her long hair fell just past her shoulders in soft golden waves, and Jensen thought she looked at home among the trees, like she belonged in the forest.  
  
Jared seemed to share Jensen’s opinion. “Are you a wood sprite?” he asked, his eyes wide. Alona’s lips curved up into a wide smile, showing straight, white teeth and her eyes crinkled up in laughter.  
  
“No, I don’t think so anyway. I’m just as human as you are. Well, except for this thing I can do making the trees—“  
  
“Grow, yeah,” Jared said excitedly. “We can do that too.” Here he gestured wildly between himself and Jensen. “Do you know what’s going on here? Do you know where we are?”  
  
“Sorry, no,” Alona said, the laughter subsiding. “But I’m glad we finally found each other. I woke up a little while ago all alone and all I knew was my name, and yours too apparently. Genevieve – that’s her – and I found each other. We scrounged some clothes up and decided to try and find Jensen and Jared, since your names were floating around in our heads. Then we found the Witherkin’s trail and started following it, and it led us to you.”  
  
Genevieve gave an awkward little wave when Alona introduced her, and moved to stand closer to the blonde. She was of equal height as Alona but a little more substantial. Where Alona looked like a stiff breeze might blow her over, this woman looked more solid – more  _human_. “I’m Genevieve. Which of you are Jared, and which is Jensen?”  
  
Jensen and Jared quickly identified themselves to the newcomers.  
  
“I think we need to sit down and figure out what’s going on, where we are and what we should do next. I don’t like not knowing who I am,” said Alona.  
  
“But you know your name is Alona,” Genevieve countered. “Just like I know I’m Genevieve.”  
  
“And I’m Jensen,” Jensen said. “But that’s all I know. Do you know more about yourself? Do you know where you came from and what you do for a living?”  
Genevieve’s forehead creased as if she hadn’t thought about that, and then shook her head. “How can I not know that?” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked frustrated. Of the four of them, Genevieve looked the most put together, wearing a pair of men’s breeches which reached just past her knees. She’d procured a pair of soft leather boots which seemed to fit her well, and Jensen was jealous that she’d managed to find footwear that didn’t still have a foot in them. Like Alona, she’d found herself a shirt that she’d belted around her waist, although unlike Alona she’d found an actual belt to wear. Her thick, long dark hair was tied back in a queue with a leather thong.  
  
“So what now?” Alona wondered aloud. “We were obviously meant to find each other. Or we know each other. From before, I guess. I mean, how else would we know each other’s names?”  
  
Jensen and Jared shared a look and then shrugged. Genevieve didn’t respond at all, but she looked dubious. Jared sighed and sat down on the ground, cross legged. The others sat as well, forming an impromptu meeting to apparently figure out what their next move should be.  
  
Something occurred to Jensen. He wasn’t sure where it came from – it just popped into his mind as if it had always been there, just like the information about the Witherkin had earlier.  
  
“The nearest town is Sheppardston, to the East.”  
  
The other three nodded in agreement, as if they knew this as well. Perhaps they did.  
  
“We should go there,” said Genevieve, her voice a bit more confident than it had been. “Maybe we could figure out if that’s where we live, or maybe they can tell us who we are.”  
  
“Or at least where we came from,” Jared agreed. He was quick to smile, Jensen noticed, although he tended to keep his eyes downward when he did so. Maybe it came from being so tall.  
  
“It would be a start,” Alona said. “We should probably stick together until we figure this thing out.”  
  
Jensen didn’t see any reason not to stick together, so he agreed with Alona. No one else voiced opinions to the contrary, and so it was settled.  
  
They would go to Sheppardston.


	2. Chapter 2

 

  
  
They headed east as planned, accompanied by birdsong as they walked. Eventually Jensen and Jared both found acceptable shoes and with that everyone in their impromptu party was deemed presentable, with the exception of Alona.  
  
She’d balked at the idea of shoes, saying that she liked the feel of moss under her feet and that shoes were overrated. Jared tried to reason with her, telling her that she’d want some shoes once they were in Sheppardston and had to walk on cobblestones instead of moss, but Alona was nothing if not stubborn.  
  
It was Genevieve who finally found shoes for Alona, and even then she carried them a while before, wordlessly, Alona took them and pulled them on. They were a little too big, and the leather was baggy around her ankles. Jensen already knew better than to show the slightest amusement at her appearance, lest she take the shoes right back off, but she looked like a character in a fortune-tellers tarot spread.  
  
“Four amnesiacs meet in a forest,” Jared said. “It sounds like the set up for a bad joke.”  
  
“Ha, maybe,” Alona chuckled. “But it’d be the funniest joke I ever heard.”  
  
Behind them, Genevieve broke out in giggles. “It’d be the  _only_ joke you’ve ever heard,” she said, covering her mouth with her hand as she laughed.  
  
Jensen trailed behind all of them, feeling surly. Sure, a great ugly beast had been killed and his life had been saved, and really he ought to be grateful, but really, he was pouting. He knew he was pouting and didn’t care enough to stop pouting. He rather felt he was the only one concerned about their lack of memories. Four people didn’t just lose their memories. Something had to have happened to cause it.  
  
He cast about for a weapon as they walked and finally found a small dagger tucked into a boot. Thankfully the dagger was the only thing in the boot and so Jensen quickly tucked it into his own, feeling slightly mollified now that he had a weapon, no matter that it was small and most likely insufficient. Maybe if another Witherkin showed up he could gouge out an eye – if he could get close enough to it and not be killed.  
  
“Hey, is everything alright with you?” Jared asked suddenly, surprisingly close to Jensen’s ear. It startled Jensen and his muscles tensed as he jerked away. Jared had been in the lead, and Jensen had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed Jared drop back beside him, his footsteps matched despite Jared’s longer stride. Jared reached out and rested his hand on Jensen’s lower back, which Jensen found distracting instead of comforting.  
  
“Uh, yeah,” Jensen said, and then realized he was being dishonest. “I mean, no, I’m not alright. Are you? I mean, here we are, the four of us and not one of us can remember who we are apart from our names, and you don’t seem concerned about it. You or Alona or Genevieve. You’re all  _hey-ho la-di-da_  about it.”  
  
Jared withdrew his hand, which Jensen was thankful for even though it took away the warmth that had been spreading through his limbs from where it had rested. Jared’s expression became pensive.  
  
“No, I know, you’re right,” he said, running that hand through his thick dark hair. “It makes no sense. I guess I just haven’t really come to terms with it yet. We’ll figure it out, I’m sure of it.” Here Jared gave Jensen a small half-smile that Jensen was pretty sure was faked. “We’ll find some answers in Sheppardston. I’m sure of it.”  
Jensen wished  _he_ were as sure as Jared seemed to be.  


 

* * *

  
Sheppardston was a picturesque little town reminiscent of times long past. Situated on a bluff overlooking one of the larger inland lakes, it was surrounded by an ancient stone wall that was built back when the cities were self-governing. Made from thick, heavy bricks and fortified with battlements every so often, the wall was still in excellent condition, and could probably still hold off an army if one decided to attack. That wasn’t likely to happen in this day and age, but it was a point of pride for the residents nonetheless.  
  
Where most towns had expanded beyond their walls or simply torn them down, Sheppardston had done neither. Then again, the town lay on no major trade routes and so had not had the opportunity to expand as its sister cities had. Here people lived a quiet life, marrying and raising their children much in the same fashion they had been raised, or setting off at a young age to seek their fame and fortune.  
  
The four travelers came upon the city rather suddenly. There was no gradual end to the forest they walked through, rather it just ceased to be a forest and they found themselves in an empty field about a mile’s walk away from the town. Merely a step behind them the forest grew as if it had been there for years. If nothing else, this made it very clear that this was not a natural forest.  
  
No one in their party said anything. Instead they shared a silent moment as if they were the oldest of friends and could communicate without words. It was Genevieve who took the first step towards Sheppardston, flashing them all a shy smile and motioning with her right hand for them to follow.  
  
The gate was shut, and no guard seemed to be posted. Outside the walls, where they were, there was no movement to be seen. It was all very quiet, and Jensen was beginning to worry that either something awful had befallen the town, or it had been abandoned.  
  
“Hello?” Alona called, standing on her tiptoes trying to see over the gate. Jensen suppressed a laugh. If Jared with his superior height couldn’t see over the gate, there was no way Alona, all five feet six inches of her was going to be able to, even if she stood on her very tippest of toes.  
  
“Who goes there?” A voice came from above, and Jensen looked up to see an armed guard staring down at them from the top of the wall. Well, that was unusual. Was the city expecting to be attacked? Jensen looked around, halfway expecting to see an army on the march.  
  
“I’m Jared,” Jared answered. “This is Jensen, Alona, and Genevieve.” He gestured to each of them. “We have just come from the forest –“  
  
“I saw where you came from,” the gruff voice said. “The mayor would like to speak with you. I’m going to have the gate opened, and you will come inside without any trouble. Am I clear?”  
  
A sense of unease unfurled in Jensen’s stomach. Perhaps they were about to get those answers Jared was so sure of earlier. Alona caught his gaze with her own and he could tell she was feeling unsettled about this as well, by the thinness and sideways tilt of her lips. Her hand went to her weapon.  
  
“No!” Jared hissed. “Look, just wait and see what happens, alright?”  
  
The gate swung open with a great creaking sound, making it abundantly clear that this gate was not often used. Jared walked through first, followed closely by the two women, and finally, Jensen.  
  
Behind them, the gate shut again, faster than it had opened, but Jensen soon found his attention diverted by the company of armed soldiers that surrounded them, weapons raised and pointed at them. Jensen looked up, and noticed that along the wall stood marksmen, rifles at the ready with all four of them in their crosshairs.  
  
“Go no further!” the guard demanded. His gaze jumped from person to person as his eyes narrowed. “Put your hands behind your back, right now.”  
  
“I think we should do as he says,” Jensen said, before Jared could act on that defiant glint in his eye.  
  
“What is the meaning of this?” Jared asked, affronted. “Do you greet all travelers this way?”  
  
“You will hold still and allow yourselves to be cuffed,” the guard said. He’d come down from his perch atop the wall and now walked through the company of soldiers who parted to let him through.  
  
Jensen looked over at Jared, whose hand was slowly reaching for his weapon. The guard noticed immediately.  
  
“You will regret that, son,” he said. “Now come peaceably, or in pieces. Your decision.”  
  
“Maybe we should,” said Genevieve. “At least we’ll find out what’s going on.”  
  
“Do you give us your word that you aren’t going to just have us killed?” This time it was Alona who piped up, her eyes narrowed to slits as she glared at the guard.  
  
“Look, the mayor simply wants to talk to you, but we need to make sure you’re harmless first. If you don’t start any trouble you can be on your way by nightfall.”  
  
“You’re lying,” Jensen said. “Tell us what the mayor really wants with us.”  
  
“Look, the way I see it, you don’t really have a choice in the matter,” the guard said, holding his hands up as if supplicating them to make the right choice.  
  
“Alright,” Jensen agreed. “I agree to your terms.” He turned to his companions, who shared the same defeat on their faces that he felt in his chest. The other three nodded their agreement.  
  
The metal cuffs were cold against the skin of Jensen’s wrists, and he wanted nothing more than to fight against the bonds, but he’d agreed.  
  
What he hadn’t agreed to was to be marched through the town like a common criminal, while the citizens peered out at him from doors and windows, stopping their daily tasks to watch the strangers march by in chains.  
  
Thankfully they didn’t have to walk very far before they reached the center of the town and were corralled into a brick building. Just inside the front doors was a large wooden desk, and sitting on that desk was a young man of perhaps nineteen or twenty years old. Jensen couldn’t help but notice the youth’s mussed appearance – his vest and trousers were quite rumpled and his straw colored hair looked like he’d just rolled out of bed.  
  
“Is Mayor Sheppard here yet?” The guard who’d apprehended them asked him. The youth looked up with wide, startled eyes.  
  
“Who are they?” he asked. “Why would the mayor be here?”  
  
“You’re useless, Jake,” said the guard with a heavy sigh. “I dispatched a runner to the mayor’s house about ten minutes ago. Stay here while I secure the prisoners, and for the sake of the Gods, make yourself presentable before the mayor gets here.”  
  
The young man, Jake, looked at the floor and hastily ran a hand through his unruly hair. It helped not one bit.  
  
“Disarm them,” the guard barked, and Jake pushed himself up from where he sat on the desk and did as he was told, quickly divesting Jared, Jensen, Alona and Genevieve of their newly acquired weapons. Jared stared forlornly at his sword where it sat on the desk, and Jensen commiserated. His small dagger may not have been much of a blade, but it was a blade and he’d felt good having it with him.  
  
Jensen felt a prod in his back which he felt was wholly unnecessary, but started walking where the guard directed, down a short corridor to the back of the building. Presently he found himself and his three companions in a barred cell, where the guard had them stand with their backs against the bars so he could remove the cuffs. He was very generous in allowing the prisoners the freedom of movement once more, and he made sure they all knew how magnanimous he was.  
  
“Mayor Sheppard is here,” Jake called as he walked down the corridor. He was followed by a retinue of men, all young and able-bodied men in casual dress and then an older gentleman in surprising finery. He looked like a very pleasant man, perhaps with a slightly sarcastic bent if the tilt of his lips was any indication. He had a high forehead and wispy brown hair, and from the way he carried himself looked like he was secure in his station in his embroidered vest and finely woven shirt and trousers.  
That is, he seemed pleasant until he opened his mouth, but no pleasant tone could belie the menace in his words.  
  
“Tell me your names and where you hail from,” he ordered. Jared opened his mouth to answer but the other man just continued on, not letting him speak.  
  
“My men saw you come out of the forest, and I’d like to know several things. See, the strangest thing happened last night. That forest that you just happened to come out of sprang up out of nowhere last night. An army of over one thousand men just up and disappeared, not to mention the wizard who led it and the dragon they were battling. Just – poof – gone!”  
  
Jensen felt his mouth fall open slightly before he composed himself and snapped it shut. He –no, the four of them – were being blamed for the disappearance of an army? Absurd!  
  
“You think  _we_ made an army disappear? That’s ridiculous!”  
  
“I’d like one good reason why I shouldn’t kill you four right now, for what you’ve done,” Mayor Sheppard said. He walked closer to the cell that contained them, his steps slow and deliberate, making sure to keep out of arms reach.  
  
“I have one, how about we didn’t do anything?” Jared railed, grasping the bars with both hands as if he’d like nothing more than to lunge through and throttle the man who’d had them imprisoned. Jensen would have liked to do the same, actually. In fact, he was all for making a group effort out of it. Genevieve, Alona and Jared had all proven themselves in the battle with the Witherkin; if they could get out of this cell they’d surely be able to best this man. As circumstances stood though, the mayor definitely had the upper hand here.  
  
“You didn’t do anything?” Mayor Sheppard said, purposefully widening his eyes in pretend shock. He turned to one of the men who stood silently by. “Did you hear that? They did nothing! I should to let them go on their merry way, shouldn’t I?” Now he turned back to the prisoners. “Oh that’s quite amusing.”  
  
“But we didn’t!” Genevieve interjected. She didn’t move from her spot, and with her arms crossed tightly over her stomach she looked very small. “That we know of, at least. Please, there’s no reason to imprison us.”  
  
One of the mayor’s eyebrows rose dangerously high. “That you know of? What do you mean? Who are you?”  
  
“I’m Genevieve,” she answered.  
  
“Genevieve who?” Mayor Sheppard prodded, focusing all his attention on her. Perhaps he thought that she was going to be the most forthcoming of the four of them. Jensen couldn’t say he knew her yet, not after a day, but he would bet that Sheppard was underestimating her.  
  
“We don’t know our last names,” Alona said loudly, startling the mayor as well as Jensen. “And that’s the truth.” Genevieve flashed an unreadable look in Alona’s direction and Jensen wondered if Alona hadn’t somehow ruined Genevieve’s plan – that is, if she even had a plan.  
  
Mayor Sheppard took a step back and rolled his eyes.  
  
“Really? Amnesia? All four of you?”  
  
“Look, you ass,” Alona seethed, her teeth bared in annoyance. “If we knew, we’d tell you.”  
  
“Now, now, now,” the man tutted. “Is that any way to speak to the man who holds the key to your freedom? To your life? No, I don’t think so. Tell you what. Why don’t we make a deal?”  
  
Jensen’s eyes narrowed. Making a deal sounded like a terrible idea.  
  
“What kind of deal?” he asked.  
  
“Well, it’s simple, really,” he said, twirling the keyring that held the keys to their cell around his index finger. “One of you remembers what happened to that army, to that dragon, to my  _gold_ -“ Now he was yelling, drops of spit ejecting from between his lips with every word. “-or you die at dawn. It’s that simple.”  
  
“So that’s what this is about,” Jared muttered with a glower. “I should have known.”  
  
Jensen blinked. How could Jared have possibly known that this would come down to – to what? Missing gold?  
  
“It’s always about gold,” Jared explained, looking right at Jensen. “What gold are you talking about?”  
  
“The dragon’s gold, idiot! The dragon is obviously gone, the four of you are obviously the last or only surviving soldiers in that army that I  _allowed_ to camp in my fields, eat  _my_ food, harass  _my_ women, and now it’s all just gone? No, I will have the gold I was promised and I will have it soon. Or you die. Like I said, it’s that simple.”  
The mayor adjusted his vest and sighed, as if his fit of temper had drained him of all energy and now he needed a nap. Turning, he walked away, his men following him silently. Jensen wondered if they weren’t afraid of him.  
  
Genevieve immediately walked to the barred window and tried to shake it free. When it did not budge, she turned to face her companions, her dark brown eyes wide with fear.  
  
“What are they going to do to us?” she asked in a quiet voice. “We haven’t done anything. Have we? Surely we can’t be responsible for the disappearance of an entire army?”  
  
Jensen shrugged and sat down with his back against the cool brick of the cell wall. Genevieve looked like she was about to cry, and Jared walked over and put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer to his body. Jensen was sure it was meant as comfort only, but Genevieve carefully extricated herself from his embrace and moved a little further away. Now Jared looked hurt.  
  
“Well this is just perfect,” Alona seethed, marching back and forth the five whole paces it took to traverse the cell from one side to the other. She pushed a wild strand of blonde hair back away from her face.  
  
“Gods, what a sanctimonious prick that guy is.” The voice was new, and Jensen looked into the cell next to theirs to find they were not the only prisoners here. The red-headed girl standing alone in the next cell gazed at the retreating back of their prison guard with contempt. There was no attempt to hide her feelings, and it showed in the curl of her sneer. It disappeared as soon as it surfaced though, for when she turned to face them, she wore a big smile.  
  
“And who might I have the honor of being wrongly imprisoned  with today?” she asked.  
  
“You assume we are imprisoned wrongly?” Genevieve asked. She stared at the other woman and moved closer to the bars of the cell, as if the red-head were a bug specimen she wanted to examine.  
  
“Oh, of course,” the other woman said with a wave of her hand. “It’s Sheppardston – the mayor is notorious for throwing anyone into prison for the slightest infraction, although he usually tires of having them behind bars for more than a day or two and releases them. I think I’ve been here the longest – two weeks now if I’ve counted the days correctly.” Here she held up a hand and started counting fingers.  
  
“Who are you?” Genevieve wanted to know. “What did you do?”  
  
Alona gave a startled laugh and sidled next to Genevieve. “You can’t just go asking people things like that, Gen.”  
  
Genevieve turned confused eyes on Alona. “I can’t? Why not?”  
  
“Well, um, you see. . .” Alona was apparently at a loss for words. It seemed unusual for her.  
  
“Oh, no, it’s quite alright,” said the other prisoner. “My name is Felicia. I’m in here because the Mayor – Mark - paid a visit to the Oracle and didn’t like what she prophesized for him. So he kidnapped me and is holding me here until she changes it – or until I escape, which I plan to do soon.” Felicia’s eyes narrowed. “I just need to come up with a plan.”  
  
“The Oracle?” Jared gasped, eyes going wide. “I thought that was just a myth. I mean, an Oracle – a real Oracle – in our day and age?”  
  
Jensen tried to wrack his brain for information about an oracle – any oracle – and came up with nothing. “I’ve never heard of an Oracle,” he said. “At least, I’m pretty sure I haven’t.” He tapped his skull and once more dismissed his brain as useless.  
  
“Wait, why would he kidnap you if he didn’t like the Oracle’s prophecy?” Jensen asked. He was surprised by Jared’s reaction – it was obviously genuine, but with the memory problems they were all having it was strange to hear him sound so certain about something.  
  
“What was foretold?” Alona wanted to know. Felicia shrugged.  
  
“I don’t know exactly,” she said. “I’m just a Devotee of the Oracle – I’m not present when she gives the prophecies. What I do know is that she doesn’t create the future, she just tells what she sees, so frankly Sheppard is being an idiot. Holding me here is not going to change whatever she foretold. In fact, it makes me nervous because if it something really bad I don’t want to be here for it. Make sense?”  
  
Jensen found himself nodding along at her dizzying speech.  
  
“All I know,” Felicia continued, “is that it had something to do with something bad happening to him or to the town. My guess? I think he and his family lose the mayorship here. Jake over there was telling me that the Sheppards have held the mayorship since the town was named and that they act like royalty. From what I’ve seen of him, I have to agree.  
  
“If we can escape, you should come down to Oracle Grove with me. Maybe she could help you sort out this memory mess you seem to be in. Sorry, I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, it’s just, well, these cells are kind of easy to hear through and all-“  
  
“It’s fine,” Jared said, huffing out a laugh and raising his hand to stop her. “I think that’s a good idea, actually.”  
  
“You do?” Felicia sounded surprised.  
  
“It’s a great idea,” Jensen affirmed. “But how are we going to get out of here?”  


 

* * *

 

The day passed slowly, as all days in captivity are wont to do. They were given a bucket in which to relieve themselves at the same time as they were given a meager lunch. The lunch consisted of fruit that was a little overripe, bread that was at least a few days old and water. They split it between themselves and ate it greedily, unsurprisingly since it was the first food they’d had all day. The guard had left Jake in charge of them, and he mercifully brought them a second platter when they finished the first, making them promise not to tell anyone of his generosity lest he get in trouble.

  
Felicia liked to talk, which helped the time go faster. They learned that she’d been pledged to the Oracle as a Devotee when she was very young, and that her time of service was almost over. In a few years she’d be expected to return to her village and find a husband – or a wife, she’d said with a wink – and there spend the rest of her days contributing what she’d learned from the Oracle to her town.  
  
“Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great experience and I’ve made so many friends with the other Devotees, but I can’t say I’ve really learned anything mystical or magical, you know? Although if I have a daughter I’ll probably pledge her service to the Oracle – if she’s still doing the Oracle thing at that point in time. Hey, what’s that?”  
It took a moment for the question to sink in as an actual question and not just more rambling, but when he looked at where Felicia pointed, Jensen paled.  
  
“Oh, no,” he said. “Don’t touch it!”  
  
On the wall of their cell a spider crawled, bone white and roughly the size of a man’s fist. A veiny network of red tendrils decorated its bulbous abdomen. It did not leave a trail of slime as the worm had, but where it stepped, a second later a puff of dust appeared as a small circle of the brick turned to dust from decay.  
  
 _Witherkin._


	3. Chapter 3

 

  
  
Witherkin came in all sorts of shapes and sizes, all of them grotesque. This one was small and not very potent. It shouldn’t have been this far from the forest, especially if that forest which had appeared out of nowhere overnight was the cause of their appearance in the first place.  
  
Jensen immediately thought of the dagger in his boot, and then grimaced when he remembered that his dagger had been confiscated along with all of their other weapons. He didn’t dare try to squash the thing with his hands – he wasn’t about to let his hand decay into a puff of dust. No, what he needed was a blade, something the Witherkin were vulnerable to.  
  
Genevieve had already gotten her shoe off and was using it to pulp the unsuspecting Witherkin. It took a couple of good smashes before the creature dropped to the floor, dead and quickly decomposing into a pile of dust itself. It left a small hollow in the floor underneath it. Jared cheered, Alona gaped and Jensen could only find it in himself to blink.  
  
Genevieve tapped the shoe against the wall to knock the dust off of it before examining it. “Well, that’s nice, I’ve a hole in my shoe now, but at least that’s dead. There’s going to be more. We need to get out of here.”  
  
“What in God’s Green Feathers was that-“ Felicia was cut off by Alona holding up a finger.  
  
“Listen,” she said quietly, seriously. “Something’s happening outside.”  
  
“What God has green feathers?” Genevieve asked, looking curiously at Felicia. Felicia grinned.  
  
“All of them, as far as I’m concerned.”  
  
“Can you all please be quiet?” Alona groused. “I’m trying to listen to what’s-“  
  
Giving a frustrated huff, Jared strode over to the window and, using his elbow, broke the panes of glass. There was definitely something odd happening outside.  
  
“Ow!” Jared exclaimed, rubbing his elbow. “For some reason I thought that would be easier.”  
  
Jensen looked to make sure Jared hadn’t injured himself.  _No blood, good_ , he thought as he pushed past Jared to get closer to the now broken window. There were iron bars that criss-crossed the window, so there was no chance of escape this way, but at least now he could  _hear_.  
  
Outside there came the sound of men shouting, and gunfire, and a loud bell that obviously signaled an alarm ringing steadily.  
  
“Jake! Jacob! Come here!” Felicia was louder than she should have been physically capable of being.  
  
“Hey!” Alona complained.  
  
“What are you hollering about back here?” said a man who definitely wasn’t Jake, walking down the corridor that led to their cells. He was tall, maybe taller than Jensen, and slender with dark skin. He was infinitely more put-together than Jake, from the clean press of his immaculate clothing to the intelligent glint in his eyes as he stared at the prisoners.  
  
“Jake isn’t here. He left for the day.”  
  
“Oh, hello Aldis.” Felicia greeted the man with a smile. “What’s going on out there?”  
  
The man, Aldis, just blinked at Felicia for a moment before turning his attention to the four prisoners in the other cell. His eyes narrowed when he saw the shards of glass on the floor.  
  
“Did you break your window? Did you not see the bars on it?” The man, Aldis, seemed to ignore Felicia in favor of fussing about the damage Jared had done to the cell.  
  
“Hey, Aldis, the window isn’t important!” Felicia interjected, drawing his attention back to herself and away from the other four.  
  
“The window’s not important?” Aldis echoed Felicia’s words back at her. “My ass it’s not important!”  
  
“Aldis.” This came from Jared, his voice pitched a little lower than usual as if trying to command authority. “Look, something bad is happening here. Have you ever heard of Witherkin?”  
  
“Witherkin,” Aldis repeated the word, his forehead scrunched up as he considered it. Suddenly his eyes widened. “Is that… oh, Gods, is  _that_ what’s attacking the town? I have to let someone know – I have to let the mayor know!”  
  
“Aldis, wait,” Felicia said. Her voice was unusually calm. “There was one of those  _things_ in their cell. Look at the wall – you can see the trail it made. What if more come in here? We’re sitting ducks in these cells. You have to let us go.”  
  
“I can’t do that!” Aldis objected, running a hand over the top of his head. “The mayor will-“  
  
“The mayor has bigger things to worry about right now than an ambiguous prophecy and four strangers who just want to leave,” Genevieve said. Aldis looked at her for a long moment, as if surprised by her presence. He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing.  
  
“Do I know you?” he asked. “You look a little familiar, but you’re not from here, are you?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Genevieve replied. “The four of us – we can’t remember anything before this morning. We came here looking for answers and were thrown in this prison. I know you know that’s no way to treat travelers and we’ve done nothing wrong. Can you please let us out? We don’t deserve to die simply for coming to the wrong town at the wrong time. Help us. Please.”  
  
Aldis groaned, obviously conflicted. Then, moving quickly, he took a ring of keys from his belt and opened first Felicia’s cell, and then the other one.  
  
“Alright, get out of here. I’ll figure something out - maybe throw some dust in here or something to make it look like that Witherkin got you but you have to get out of town.”  
  
“We’ll need supplies,” Felicia said, hurrying out of her cell.  
  
“Fine, fine,” Aldis said. “Oh, I am going to be in so much trouble. Any confiscated items are in the storage room behind the intake desk. It’s unlocked. Go!”  
  
The five former prisoners didn’t wait to be told again. They sprinted down the corridor and into the room behind the desk that Jake had been lounging on when they’d arrived. Jensen’s eyes fell on his dagger almost immediately and he hurriedly returned it to his boot.  
  
“Here, grab a bag,” he heard Jared say before waving a brown, coarsely woven duffel bag in his face. Jensen snatched the bag away from Jared with a glare.  
  
“Thanks,” he said, realizing as he looked around that there was a veritable  _stockpile_ of weapons here.  
  
Jensen found a pistol, a beautiful one, the handle carved from tusk or bone and the metal of the barrel engraved with filigree. There was also a good supply of ammunition for the gun sitting next to it, and he promptly dumped the boxes into the bag he was filling with supplies. Guns were great, but Jensen suddenly knew he had a preference for blades. He didn’t have to worry about ammunition for a blade. Perhaps there were some throwing knives. Jensen looked around and located a set hidden away in a tall cabinet. It was a gorgeous set, probably taken from some poor sap that Mayor Sheppard had wrongly imprisoned. Jensen knew he’d be good with them.  
  
They went in the bag. The pistol he holstered on his belt.  
  
“Are you an assassin?” Felicia asked, coming up behind him and watching as the set of blades disappeared into the bag. “We’re supposed to be collecting supplies – that means food  _and_ weapons.”  
  
“There’s food here?” Jensen hadn’t noticed any food, but then he’d been focused on retrieving his dagger and then the pistol and the throwing knives had distracted him – alright, yes, perhaps he was a little over fixated on the weapons.  
  
Felicia just tilted the corner of her mouth up in a sort of smile that clearly indicated what she thought of Jensen and nodded her head toward the other side of the room.  
Sure enough, on the other side of the room there was a little bit of food sitting out – more of the same rolls that they’d eaten earlier along with some potatoes and onions.  
  
“It’s not much,” Felicia said, “but it will be enough to get us to Oracle Grove. Grab them. And that pot, to cook in.”  
  
Jensen did as he was told, bagging the supplies before dumping them in the same duffel as his weapons.  
  
“That’s good,” Jared said, his own bag light compared to Jensen’s. Jared looked from Jensen’s face to his bag and then back again. He leaned in so that his mouth was right next to Jensen’s ear. “Greedy, aren’t you?”  
  
Jensen felt his face heat. “It’s not just for me!”  
  
Jared chuckled. “I know. Let’s get going.”  
  
As Jared moved away from Jensen, Jared’s hand trailed from Jensen’s side and across his back, and Jensen idly wondered if Jared was touching him overly much or if he was imagining it.  


 

* * *

Stepping outside the building that had been their prison, Jensen noticed that there was an odd combination of chaos and quiet. The afternoon was starting to wane, and the shadows were growing longer as the sun started to sink toward the horizon. A slight wind had picked up sometime during the day, but Jensen welcomed the feel of it on his skin. It meant he was out of that cursed cell!  
  
He hefted the duffel he carried onto his left shoulder and unsheathed his dagger. The street they’d exited to was deserted; it seemed every able-bodied person was over at the wall, fighting what Jensen presumed was another Witherkin. Jensen hoped it was only one beast and not an army of small spiders but his hope was dimmed slightly when he saw another fist-sized white spider on the wall of the building across from them.  
  
Two seconds later it exploded, and Jensen realized that Jared was carrying a rifle.  
  
“Nice shot,” Felicia commended. “How many of those little bastards do you think there are?”  
  
“Too many,” Jared muttered, keeping his rifle at the ready.  
  
“Another one!” Alona shouted, pointing up the street a ways. Before Jensen could even reach for his pistol, Jared fired another round and this one exploded just like the first, leaving a small scatter of dust where its remains landed.  
  
Over at the wall, the sound of fighting intensified, and Jensen paused long enough to turn and look. Thanks to Sheppardston being a small town, he could see quite clearly.  
  
One long, white, segmented leg appeared over the battlements, waving threateningly before it found purchase. A second one joined it, and a giant version of the fist-sized spiders hefted itself to the top of the wall.  
  
“Gods above and below,” Jensen breathed. “I hope they can best that.”  
  
Jared turned, as did Alona, Felicia and Genevieve, all of them gasping in unison at the creature that now sat perched atop the stone wall of Sheppardston. Vile did not begin to describe it – the smaller spiders they’d dusted looked nearly cute in comparison. The soldiers at the wall fell back a few paces before resurging and trying to drive the monstrosity back, but not enough soldiers could get close to it, seeing as how the wall around Sheppardston was only wide enough for three men to walk abreast of each other on it.  _What they need to do is get the spider down on the ground where they can surround and kill it_ , Jensen thought.  
  
It was roughly the size of a large warhorse if one didn’t count the legs. Its pasty white body was riddled with the same red network of veiny webbing and though Jensen couldn’t see it, he could imagine it pulsating with the creature’s lifeblood. Small chunks of brick and mortar fell to the ground as the wall under the Witherkin began to succumb to the decay.  
  
“They will,” said Alona. “If the four of us could best that worm in the forest, they can defeat that creature. Come on, we need to find horses.”  
  
“Do you think we should stay and help?” Genevieve asked, her face a mask of worry and regret. She looked like she already knew the answer.  
  
Felicia put a hand on Genevieve’s shoulder. “We really can’t,” she said.  
  
“She’s right,” Jared said as he kept a vigilant eye out for more Witherkin. “What we need are horses. Does anyone know where there’s a stable?”  
  
“There’s one at the mayor’s house, that-a-way,” said Felicia, pointing towards the north end of town.  
  
It only took a few minutes to reach the stables that Felicia was referring to, and thankfully they made it unaccosted. The mayor’s stable had been left unguarded and the horses were easily saddled and readied. They took six horses – one for each person and one to carry the duffels. When Genevieve expressed concern about caring for the animals, Felicia said there were plenty of grasses and water between Sheppardston and the Oracle, and that the horses would be fine.  
  
Jensen felt a little guilty about taking the horses but there was no help for it. Sheppardston was too small to hide out in, and so they needed to make good their escape while they could. Due to Sheppardston’s position on the bluff, there were only two gates that allowed access into and out of the town. The gate that Jensen, Jared, Alona and Genevieve had entered through earlier was the western gate. The other gate lay to the north. They’d either have to sneak out of the northern gate and circle back around the city to head south, or they’d have no choice but to try the western one, despite the army fighting the Witherkin there.  
  
They kept the horses at a fast trot, making good time but Jensen was not feeling optimistic. So far no one had confronted them – the people who weren’t fighting at the western gate were hidden inside their houses. It didn’t take long to reach the northern gate.  
  
It was locked. No, a better word would be barricaded. The heavy wooden gate was secured with thick iron locks. There would be no getting through this.  
  
“They had time to lock the gate,” Felicia breathed, gesturing wildly with one hand. “Unbelievable. What if people needed to escape the city?”  
  
No one else said a word. As one they stared at the locked gate and silently agreed with Felicia. If the battle with the Witherkin was lost then this simple action doomed the entire town. There was no other way out, barring any secret escape exits. That was a long shot, though. Jared gave a frustrated huff as he shot the gate a thin-lipped glare.  
  
“We’re going to have to go through the western gate,” Jensen said, since no one else apparently wanted to say it.  
  
“You’re right,” Genevieve agreed, and her fingers were clenched so tightly around the reins to her horse that they looked bloodless. They turned their horses toward the western gate.  
  
It didn’t take long enough, in Jensen’s opinion, to reach it. Up on the wall, the Witherkin still battled the soldiers who were attacking with all of their might. The giant spider reared up, spindly, segmented legs clawing at the air in defense. Its side had been wounded, and from the gash in its abdomen smaller Witherkin were escaping – the same size as the little one that had been crawling on their cell wall.  
  
One soldier hit it in the eye with an arrow and it roared with a sound like dust rubbed on paper, only amplified a million times. Under its legs, the brick of the wall slowly broke apart as it continued to decay, the rubble rolling down to the street and compromising the creature’s footing.  
  
The party of five halted their mounts and watched the battle unfold. The top of the wall clearly showed the path the Witherkin had come, a trail of dusty, crumbling bricks testament to its presence. The destruction wrought by the spider was impressive; it looked like someone had torn a piece of the wall away, leaving the formerly perfect line of it pitted and cracked.  
  
“Is the city doomed?” Jared asked, glancing over at Felicia. She didn’t respond for a moment, her hand over her mouth as she watched in appalled fascination.  
  
“I don’t know,” she said. “Possibly.”  
  
Just then a soldier darted forward and with a skilled slice of his sword cut through one of the Witherkin’s hind legs. The creature spun, thrown off balance, and fell. It tumbled down the wall, landing inside the city with a wounded cry. The soldiers on the ground quickly attacked, piercing the monster with their weapons as it feebly tried to defend itself. Finally one soldier thrust a spear through its eye and into its brain, dealing the killing blow. The giant, grotesque body drooped as it died, almost as if it had been inflated with air and someone had pulled the plug. Beginning with the head, it began to turn to dust just as the Witherkin in the forest had once it was killed, but then its abdomen started rippling and then ruptured, releasing ichor and innards onto the cobblestones it rested upon, along with dozens upon dozens of the smaller spiders. They rushed forth from the gashes in the larger Witherkin’s body, as if trying to escape death themselves, and perhaps that was the truth of it.  
Nonetheless, Jensen knew that if they were to make it through the gate, this was their opportunity.  
  
“We have to go now!” Jensen exclaimed, spurring his horse into a run. “Rush the gate!”  
  
The others didn’t hesitate. They followed suit, guiding their horses toward the open gate. On the ground where the giant Witherkin had fallen, the mass of smaller spiders swarmed outward, hiding where they could and climbing whatever was in their path, buildings and soldiers alike. One soldier vainly tried to fend a spider off that had climbed onto his face. He died screaming, his face turning to dust and leaving the skull exposed when the breeze blew that dust away.  
  
Jensen was in front, nearing the gate, when he heard Jared cry out in alarm. Turning his horse, he was just in time to see Jared’s horse rear up as one of the Witherkin spiders landed on its flank. Already furrows of decay started threading outwards from where the spider clung, and the horse continued bucking, trying vainly to dislodge whatever it was that was causing it pain. Jared’s eyes were nearly as wide as the horse’s as he struggled to hang onto the flailing animal and not lose his mount.  
  
“Jared!” Jensen cried out. He quickly dismounted and ran towards Jared to help, his feet hitting the stones of the roadway with such force that it sent shocks of pain up his calves. He ignored it in favor of getting to Jared before the Witherkin could get to him. As he ran in that direction, he witnessed another of the spiders run up one of the horse’s forelegs onto its chest. The horse screamed, kicking out with its hind legs while it tried to paw at the ground with its front ones. Jensen didn’t know if Jared had been touched by the Witherkin or if it had only been his horse, but whichever the case the horse went down in a panic while Jared still rode it. The animal landed on Jared’s leg and he grunted in pain even as he fought to get out from underneath it.  
  
A small explosion of goo splattered in Jensen’s direction from under the horse, and he realized then that the horse had actually landed on the one spider that had been on its chest, killing it. Jensen grabbed his dagger from his boot and made quick work of the Witherkin that still clung tenaciously to the horse’s flank. He then sheathed the dagger once more in his boot and helped Jared out from underneath the injured animal, which was still twisting and shrieking in pain. Jensen pulled on the reins, helping the horse back to its feet and allowing it to take off running back towards the stables at full speed. An injured horse would do them no good on their journey, and back at the stables it would hopefully be tended to and make a full recovery. Jensen hoped so at least. He couldn’t be certain how grievous the injuries actually were.  
  
The three women had stopped as well, just long enough for Alona and Genevieve to double up on the back of one horse, freeing up another mount for Jared to ride.  
  
“Come on, come on!” Jensen urged, helping a limping Jared over to the other horse. “Did the Witherkin touch you?” Jensen demanded to know. Jared gritted his teeth and shook his head no, and Jensen sagged with relief. As soon Jared was situated on the other horse, he hurried back to his own horse and remounted it, spurring it onwards.  
  
They were on their way, but the delay had been noticed by none other than the mayor himself, who’d settled a ways away from the wall to instruct the battle yet remain safe. With an enraged cry he pulled some soldiers away from the battle with the small spiders and commanded them to pursue the fugitives.  
Jensen pushed his horse at breakneck speed and they galloped through the gate, pursued by the few soldiers that Sheppardston could spare. Dust kicked up under the horses’ feet as they galloped and behind him Jensen could hear the soldiers shouting, probably telling them to halt, and probably telling them to surrender, but Jensen couldn’t hear them clearly over the pounding of hooves. He was just thankful that he hadn’t heard any gunshots – the soldiers must not have been carrying pistols.  
  
 _His pistol._  
  
Jensen’s hand flew to his hip and he unholstered his weapon, turning around in the saddle and bringing the gun up in front of him. He hoped that he was as good at this as he felt like he should be – not only would he be re-captured if he fell out of his saddle, but it would be embarrassing as well.  
  
Aiming as best he could while twisted uncomfortably at the waist and riding a galloping horse, he squeezed the trigger firmly and let the shot fly. His aim was true, or he was lucky, because he heard a sharp cry of pain and one of the soldiers toppled from his mount, only to be left behind by the other soldiers as they continued the chase. Jensen hoped it wasn’t a fatal wound, but this was his life at stake – not to mention the lives of his companions. He was sure that Sheppard would have no compunction about executing them all if he managed to recapture them. Behind him, the shouting of the soldiers grew louder, and Jensen knew they were gaining on them.  
  
Jensen fired another shot, but this one went wide and did no damage to anything, save perhaps some of the foliage in the surrounding landscape. He squeezed the trigger to fire again, but the gun only clicked. Jensen cursed out loud and realized that he’d never actually checked to make sure the gun was fully loaded before they’d left.  
  
He had to do something to slow their progress, but what? They could only push the horses so fast for so far. Outrunning the soldiers was not going to happen. Suddenly an idea sprang to mind as he remembered how the tree branch had sprung up under his hand in the forest that morning. Perhaps he could get that to work in his favor.  
  
He pulled tight on the reins, ordering his horse to stop and turn to face their pursuers. Even if he was re-captured, this would buy time for the others to escape. Jensen didn’t want to be captured – he wasn’t  _that_ self-sacrificing – but he did want to stop this chase. He leapt from his saddle before the horse had turned entirely and placed his hands on the ground. He only had moments to do this, if it would even work. The dirt was cold under his touch, and little stones and pebbles rolled away as he dug his fingers as best he could into the packed earth of the roadway.  
  
It didn’t even take a moment before he connected with the life force he felt in the earth under his fingers, a thrumming pulsing  _heartbeat_ that he knew immediately as  _Mother_ – the Ultimate Mother, the one who had given birth to all. He sunk himself into her and drew her upwards, seeds under the surface acknowledging his presence and reacting to his will. The Mother’s energy surrounded them, thrummed through them, and in a moment they sprung to life. Shooting up through the packed soil of the roadway, they twisted and turned, reaching towards the waning sunlight as they grew and matured into a hedge of full grown trees. Bramble bushes and grasses grew as well, interlocking into a thick barrier of vegetation that the soldiers could not stop their horses from barreling into headlong. The horses screamed in fear and their riders were thrown against the barrier.  
  
“Hack through the trees!” Jensen heard one man, presumably their leader, shout at his men. “Use your swords!”  
  
The men did as they were told and Jensen could see the metal blades cutting through the bramble. His connection with _Mother_ snapped, leaving him feeling hollow and drained. He stared at the impromptu forest and felt disconnected from it, like it wasn’t real.  
  
They’d be through the barrier too quickly. He turned back toward his companions only to see them waiting for him a ways down the road, looking at him curiously. Jensen felt enraged that they would disregard their own safety for his.  
  
“Why did you stop?” he yelled, railing at them. “Go! Go! My barrier isn’t working! Go!” Jensen’s voice cracked on the final word, the day taking its toll on him. They didn’t listen – didn’t turn to go as he so clearly wanted them to. Instead, Alona trotted over to him on her horse. Genevieve had dismounted over by the pack horse and was rearranging some things, presumably so she’d have her own mount. Jensen groaned. Did they not realize his barrier wasn’t holding?  
  
“That’s amazing, Jensen,” Alona said from her perch, looking down at him. “But it’s not going to hold them for long. We need to set it on fire! That will hold them back.”  
  
“That’s a great idea,” Jensen muttered sarcastically. “Just pass me that torch over there and – oh, wait.”  
  
“Shut up,” Alona said with a roll of her eyes and a shake of her head. She slid from the saddle and took Jensen’s hand. “We can do this. I don’t know how we can do this, but I know we can. Don’t you feel it? Bubbling up in your stomach?”  
  
The crazy thing was, Jensen  _did_. Before he realized what he was doing, he took Alona’s hand in his, threading his fingers through her long slender ones, and together they turned to face the barricade.  
  
The arcane words poured from his lips without faltering, and Jensen did not know where they came from. Afterward, he wouldn’t be able to say what the words were, exactly, and neither would Alona. Still, as he said the words and Alona repeated them only a half-step behind, he felt a different sort of power welling up inside him, pushing its way out of his body, down his arms and out his fingertips. Orange lights danced through the maze of bramble, branches and grass, almost looking like fireflies on a hot summer evening, but then they caught fire, and the dry underbrush was immediately consumed in flames. The flames licked upwards, caressing the trunks of the trees until they too caught as well, and soon it was an inferno. Part of Jensen wept to see the destruction of his creation, but he knew it would work. The flames would push the soldiers back and they’d have to fight the flames to keep them from spreading.  
  
There was no way the soldiers of Sheppardston were getting through  _that_ anytime soon. Jensen couldn’t even hear them over the crackling of the flames.  
Alona whooped, throwing her head back and spinning in a circle. The horses pawed at the ground nervously, probably unsettled by both the flames and the display.  
  
“Look what we did!” she crowed, a wide grin splitting her face. “I don’t know how we did it, but we did! We are amazing!”  
  
“Yeah we are,” Jensen said. It was strange, but instead of feeling elated, he felt subdued. “We do need to get out of here though.”  
  
He climbed back into his saddle and hurried to catch up to the others. Alona followed behind, and her smile didn’t leave her face for a long while.  


 

* * *

 

About an hour later, the sun sank below the horizon and illuminated the sky while the land below it darkened into twilight. The travelers left the road then, heading into the forest to look for a place where they could sleep in relative safety and out of sight of any soldiers that may happen by.  
  
They found a clearing that looked promising, using the reins to tie the horses to nearby trees where they could graze. Nearby a river could be heard, the rushing water babbling merrily as it flowed through the forest. After watering and securing the horses, they risked lighting a small fire. Jared did the honors this time, the words that Jensen couldn’t remember slipping out from between his lips as if they belonged there. They passed around some rolls and food that they’d pilfered from the prison and ate in mostly silence for a while, until the rumbling in their stomachs was appeased.  
  
After their meager dinner Genevieve provided makeshift beds for them by sprouting a carpet of moss to lie on. It was surprisingly comfortable, and Jensen laid down on his with a grateful sigh.  
  
Jared was lying on the ground a few feet from Jensen, but he wasn’t asleep. His eyes were open, his brow furrowed ever so slightly. Those eyes seemed fixed straight at Jensen, but were pooled in the shadow of night-time so he couldn’t be positive. It was a little disconcerting to have Jared staring at him like that.  
  
“Hey there, Jared?” Jensen hedged, feeling like he was poking Jared with a verbal stick. Jared shook his head as if surprised.  
  
“Jensen, yes. Sorry, was I staring?” Jared asked. “That’s something I do. At least, I think that’s something I do. Can’t be certain, now, can I?” Jared was rambling a bit, but it was quiet rambling and Jensen found it oddly soothing. “I wasn’t staring at you, not really. I mean, I probably was but I wasn’t seeing you. I was somewhere in the cloud cover. I’m sorry.”  
  
“It’s alright,” Jensen said. “I don’t mind you staring.” He realized what he’d said a half-second after it left his lips and he felt his face heat up. “I mean, I don’t – you were lost in thought – it’s-“  
  
“Hey, now, calm down,” Jared said with a soft laugh. “I won’t take that the wrong way.” Jared continued to murmur something under his breath that Jensen couldn’t understand. His eyelids were too heavy and constantly drifted downward. “It’s just, I suppose I was overly optimistic about how long it would take to figure this out. Here I am sleeping on the ground in the middle of nowhere with four people I don’t know – five if I count myself. I should probably count myself, shouldn’t I? It’s not like I know myself.”  
  
“Ugh, just go to sleep Jared,” Jensen said, not wanting Jared’s suddenly maudlin mood to drag him down. “Look at it this way – you know more tonight than you did this morning. It can only get better from here, right?”  
  
Jensen forced his eyes back open just in time to see Jared smile.  
  
“I like that,” he said. “Thank you, Jensen.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” Jensen replied. “Now go to sleep.”


	4. Chapter 4

 

  
  
_I remember my mother. She was a tall tree with a laughing smile and eyes that held the greatest love for me – for all her saplings. She held my seed close to her breast until it was time to let me go, and then she released me on a spring breeze, where I floated until I found the place I was meant to take root. I grew in the outer reaches of an ancient forest, where I could protect the new trees that grew and someday release saplings of my own._   
  
_I am a dryad._   
  
_Life was peaceful until the dragon came. It arrived on an early summer gale, flying overhead and casting its shadow on my forest. The dragon was massive and beautiful, with scales that ran a gamut of colors from midnight blue to deep bronze to striking, peridot green. The creature was also exhausted and so it settled down in the fields to the east, beyond the boundaries of my wood._   
  
_It did no damage to the earth and I felt no threat, so I left it be – not that there is ever any animosity between our kinds unless the dragon were to set our protectorate ablaze. No, this dragon had no business with my forest and slept in the fields, panting out great puffs of breath as it struggled to regain its strength._   
  
_It was not long after that the army arrived, and attacked. Now this was a threat. Armies are not careful with the earth and growing things when engaged in battle, and the dragon they fought was not able to care about its surroundings either, not when it was fighting for its life. And fight it did, for this was no simple army._   
_In the midst of the melee a lone wizard stood, flinging spells of destruction at the magnificent beast who breathed fire in return. Several spells missed, ranging into my trees and causing wither and ruin._   
  
_This would not do. This I could not allow. It was my duty to protect this forest._   
  
_If the need is great one can call on the Earth Mother to lend us her power. This must only be done in times of great peril, for the price of the Earth Mother’s magic is high and paid in blood and sap. I knew this. I’d known this since I was a sapling, but the beast was backing closer and closer to my trees and I knew that I had to do something. This battle would decimate my forest._   
  
_The dragon was unusual in that it had magic of its own which it was throwing back at the attacking wizard – that was, when it could between attacks from the human soldiers in the army. Still too weak to fly, the dragon was done for, any fool could see that. It saddened me, for it was a wonderful, beautiful creature and hadn’t done any harm to the land with its presence. What more could a dryad ask for from a dragon? Certainly it had never harmed me or my kind._   
  
_I flitted from tree to tree, watching the battle rage. I watched as the dragon tried in vain to escape and let loose a great plume of fire, setting several soldiers aflame. The fire this time had come exceptionally close to the tree line of my forest. Now was the time to act. I closed my eyes and felt my roots sink deep into the Earth Mother, asking desperately for her help._   
  
_She responded with a power I’d never imagined could exist. It flooded my senses and I exploded with power, so much power that it was visible – even to those humans in the field who were trying to kill something that should be revered. The power filled the forest to overflowing and I directed it toward the battle, not knowing what this power would do. Would it kill the dragon and the soldiers or simply move them somewhere else? Would it freeze them in place? Truthfully I didn’t care what it did to them, as long as it stopped them from entering and decimating my forest. I’d grown up with the terrible stories whispered to me by the other saplings of the northern forest of Wraithwood, a wretched place were no trees could grow and no animals could live. I would not let my forest end up like that! I sent the power rushing into the fray just as the wizard sent a burst of spell-craft toward the dragon, who reared back and responded in kind, and at once all three magics collided with a sound that seemed to shake the very ground._   
  
_The night turned bright blue, accompanied by a symphony of screams as the earth seemed to turn over. We were swallowed. The dragon, the army, myself – all of us were swallowed and smothered and spit out by the earth._   
  
_Reformed._   
  
_I remember drawing breath, and then the world went black._


	5. Chapter 5

  
  
In the middle of the night, surrounded by the nighttime noises of croaking frogs and chirping crickets, Jensen awoke. He lay on his back on his bed of moss and stared up at the stars. Shining crisp and clear in the sky, they twinkled down at him and he found he knew the constellations. He entertained himself for a minute or two finding the ones that were familiar to him.  
  
Finding that he wasn’t drifting off again, he sat up and drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs and clasping his hands. It was then he remembered what must have been a dream.  
  
 _I am a dryad._  
  
But he was obviously not a dryad. Didn’t dryads have green skin and live in trees? No, if Jensen was a dryad surely he’d know, even with the amnesia. He unclasped his hands and let one settle on the earth next to him. Immediately he felt the connection with the Mother – felt her energy respond to his touch and make his fingers warm and tingle.  
  
So, part dryad then, maybe? Were there such things as half-dryads? Dryads had no need to start fires using strange, foreign words, and the mayor had said that he’d had a deal with a wizard, although if Jensen had been that wizard then one would think the mayor would have recognized him.  
  
Jensen dug his fingers into the dirt and clenched his hand into a fist. The connection with the Mother faltered and faded with Jensen’s sudden anger.  
  
 _Who am I? Who are any of us?_  
  
He looked around the clearing at the sleeping forms of his travelling companions, all quietly content in whatever dream world they were immersed in. Jared snored ever so softly, so quietly that it was almost cute. In that moment, Jensen was supremely jealous of Felicia. At least she knew who she was.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
“Do you suppose we were traveling together?” Genevieve asked the next morning while they all freshened up at the small river that flowed nearby. “I mean, it’s rather a long shot to think we’re all strangers, don’t you?” She splashed her face with water and shivered. “Oh, that’s cold.”  
  
Alona ran directly into the river, barefoot and only wearing the shirt she’d found yesterday. She laughed and splashed a handful of water at Genevieve, who shrieked and jerked backwards.  
  
“It’s not that cold, you big baby!” Alona laughed. Felicia looked at the water dubiously and sank her hand in up to her wrist. She lifted her eyes to Alona and shook her head.  
  
“Not cold? You’re clearly insane.”  
  
Jensen stood a ways downstream from the girls and their shenanigans but couldn’t help smile as Alona proceeded to splash Felicia in turn. Jensen cupped his hand in the water, prayed that it was clean, and started to drink.  
  
“Do you think we’re married?” he heard Jared muse from behind him, and both the question and the voice startled him into inhaling instead of swallowing and he choked. He felt his face heat up – most likely from lack of oxygen – as he sputtered and dribbled water down the front of his shirt.  
  
“What, married? Who?” Jensen was beginning to suspect he wasn’t known for his eloquence. He turned around to find Jared standing there with an amused smirk on his face, a look Jensen was beginning to be very familiar with. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.  
  
“Any of us,” Jared said, stepping closer to Jensen. “Well, any of us except Felicia. I’m pretty sure if one of us were married to her she’d let us know.”  
  
Jensen rolled his eyes and tried not to laugh. “Oh, come on, you know you’re married to Alona, right? Or maybe Genevieve.” Jensen ran his hand down the front of his shirt, brushing away the stray water droplets that hadn’t yet soaked into the fabric. He turned back to the water to try for a second shot at a drink. Hopefully this time no one would make him choke.  
  
“Or maybe you,” Jared said softly. Jensen wondered if perhaps he wasn’t supposed to hear that. He chose to ignore it. What did it matter who may or may not be married to each other? They’d either find out or they wouldn’t. Jared may be a handsome man and a flirt, but Jensen wasn’t going to entangle himself romantically with anyone until they figured this amnesia thing out.  
  
He didn’t want his heart broken; neither did he want to break any hearts.  
  
Jensen’s reverie was abruptly ruined by a splash of cold water in his face and Alona giggling. Jensen blinked owlishly at her, and she gave a coy little smile in return. Alona waded through the water until she was right next to Jensen, mischief sparkling in her eyes and in the curve of her smile.  
  
“So, I think Jared has a thing for you,” she said. Thankfully her voice was only just loud enough to be heard over the babbling of the water.  
  
“That’s impossible,” Jensen dismissed out of hand. “He’s only known me for a day. And he has  _amnesia_. There is no way that he has a  _thing_ for me.”  
  
Alona rolled her eyes. It seemed to be a special skill of hers. “Of course it’s possible. I just wanted to let you know because you seem the type to be annoyingly oblivious to someone making cow eyes at you.”  
  
“ _Cow eyes_?” Jensen couldn’t help but laugh. Alona looked vaguely offended.  
  
“Yes,  _cow eyes_ ,” Alona said, laughing again. “Great big, shining  _cow eyes_.”  
  
“Shut up!” Jensen demanded, embarrassed.  
  
“What’s going on over there?” They’d gotten Jared’s attention now, from where he’d been over talking with Genevieve and Felicia.  
  
“Nothing,” Alona and Jensen chorused together, and then broke out in giggles. Jared smiled uncertainly and turned back around, and Genevieve cast them a curious glance before ignoring them as well.  
  
Instead, she gazed into the water, holding perfectly still. When the ripples faded, she tilted her head.  
  
“So that’s what I look like,” she said. With that statement everyone stilled. Jensen felt a little foolish – besides what he’d ascertained about himself through touch only yesterday he had no idea what he looked like.  
  
Glancing down at the water, he waited for it to calm. His reflection was there but hard to see. It really didn’t show him what he looked like, despite Genevieve’s reaction. Jensen was disappointed.  
  
“Felicia, how long is it going to take to get you back to your oracle?” Alona asked, finally coming out of the stream. Jensen wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or if her legs really did have a slightly blue cast to them.  
  
 _Water’s not cold my ass_ , he thought.  
  
“We should be there by early evening,” Felicia answered with a smile. “Hopefully in time for dinner, to which you’re all invited, of course. The other devotees will consider you returning me as your gift to the Oracle.”  
  
“Gift?” Genevieve asked, her curiosity piqued. “Are we supposed to come with a gift?”  
  
“That is how it is done,” Felicia said. “Anyone wanting an audience with the Oracle brings a token – usually money or something useful for our community. We had a musician a while back who offered music in return for room, board, and an audience with the Oracle. That was fun.” Felicia had a faraway look in her eyes. She shook herself out of her short reverie. “We should probably be on our way, if we want to make it before dark.”  
  


* * *

“Felicia!”  
  
They were still about a half-hour away from Oracle Grove, according to the devotee, when they were met by a party of young women, all on horseback and riding as fast as they could. They were all dressed exactly alike in sandals, tight white leggings and knee length, loose dresses that flowed in the wind as they rode. Felicia’s face lit up with a wide smile when she saw them, and she waved madly at their approach. The newcomers circled round Jensen’s group as they slowed their horses, and Jensen’s horse nervously pawed at the ground. Felicia was off her mount as soon as it held still enough for her to dismount, and she was soon enveloped in the arms of the other devotees, who were obviously ecstatic at her return.  
  
“Did you escape?”  
  
“Did they let you go?”  
  
“Who are these people?”  
  
The questions all came at once, and Jensen imagined the words circling round Felicia in much the same way as the devotees had while on horseback. She held up a hand for silence but her smile did not diminish. Finally the chattering stopped and all of the girls waited for Felicia to speak.  
  
“These four rescued me and will be my guests of honor for as long as they would like to stay. They would like an audience with the oracle as well,” she explained.  
“Of course, come with us and we’ll present you to Caroline!” Jensen wasn’t sure which of the devotees was speaking, or if it was more than one. They were flitting around Felicia like hummingbirds, reaching out to touch her as if reassuring themselves that she was really there.  
  
“Caroline will be very happy to have you back,” another of the devotees said. “She’s been itching to kick out the emissaries from Sheppardston since they arrived, but didn’t want to risk your safety!”  
  
“The stupidity!” yet another devotee bemoaned. “To think that the oracle can change her prophecy just because the mayor doesn’t like it!”  
  
“Yes, stupid in the extreme,” Felicia agreed. “But let’s go to Caroline right away. I’m tired and my companions are as well. Also I have news of the town – I fear the prophecy has already come to fruition.”  
  
Felicia didn’t elaborate, but remounted her horse. The other devotees had calmed down a bit, but they still laughed and giggled as they accompanied the five travelers into Oracle Grove. They fell silent as the travelers took in the sights, and Jensen wondered how their ragtag group must look to the devotees. The journey had been dry and dusty, and both horses and riders alike wore the dirt of the road on their bodies.  
  
The village, if one could call it that was small, but what really arrested Jensen’s attention were the trees. Old and ancient, they towered above the surrounding forest. High above the ground, some trees supported buildings that seemed to be fused directly into the trunk of the trees. Suspended walkways ran between these buildings, accessible by spiral staircases that circled round the trees. No, Jensen amended, looking closer. The stairs were also part of the trees, all of it seeming alive and growing right along with the tree.  
  
“This is the work of dryads,” Genevieve said, sounding excited. “Partly, at least. Look, the rooms grow directly out of the trees. Oh, it’s gorgeous, isn’t it? I wouldn’t mind living in a place like this!”  
  
Jensen didn’t think he’d mind it either, assuming no one tipped over a lamp or dropped a candle. Then again, they probably had spells against just such a catastrophe, or perhaps the dryads had warded against fire. There were traditional, man-made buildings as well, all planted firmly on the ground and situated here and there between the trees.  
  
“You look worried, Jensen,” Felicia’s voice came from his left and he turned to see her next to him on her own horse. “Don’t worry, you’re safe here. No one, not even Mayor Sheppard, would dare violate the sanctity of the Grove.”  
  
“So how did you get taken?” Jensen wondered, and then hoped it wasn’t an offensive question.  
  
“I wandered outside of the Grove,” Felicia said with a wry smile. “Granted, I was actually doing something important but that’s when they grabbed me and took me back to Sheppardston. I hope the town is still standing.”  
  
“So do I,” Jensen mused, his thoughts turning morbid. In his mind he saw Sheppardston decimated, crawling with the little Witherkin spiders and inexplicably he hoped they’d stay there and not return to the forest. What did it say about him that he worried more about the trees than he did for the citizens of Sheppardston?  
  
They stopped in front of the largest building. Over the front door hung a large wooden sign, hand painted, proclaiming that this building was Oracle Grove Visitors Center. They tied the horses to posts set in the ground and then entered, the devotees once more surrounding Felicia like a flock of birds and twittering as they took her to their leader.  
  
Jensen hung back and found himself next to Genevieve, who looked nervous.  
  
“Do you think this is where the oracle holds court?” she asked Jensen. As the door swung shut behind him, he looked around. The building wasn’t as large as it had originally seemed. There seemed to be what looked like a gathering place with a raised platform, not quite a stage but not a dais or a pulpit, in front of a row of long, wooden pews.  
  
There was a series of small rooms on the left, the doors closed on all of them so Jensen could not see what they were used for.  
  
“Caroline! Caroline!” the devotees echoed each other as they hustled to the furthest door. “Come out! Felicia has returned!”  
  
A woman emerged from the room. She was of average height with dark hair and eyes, and wore trousers coupled with a vest that left her arms bare (unusual attire for a woman, but no less so than Alona and her dress/shirt that she’d fashioned yesterday). The woman’s face lit up when she saw Felicia and she hurried over, enveloping the red-head in a tight hug.  
  
“Oh, Felicia I was so worried about you,” she said. “We were at a stalemate with the emissaries – they refused to release you until the Oracle retracted her prophecy.”  
  
“I know,” Felicia said. “They at least explained to me why they were holding me hostage, even if it was a ridiculous reason. Adrianne can’t retract her prophecies – they come from the divine!”  
  
“I am going to go ask the emissaries to leave right this moment,” Caroline said, standing up straighter and determined.  
  
“Wait,” Felicia said, reaching out. “I would like to introduce my benefactors before you leave, if I may.”  
  
 _Benefactors_ , Jensen mused.  
  
“Benefactors?” Caroline asked, echoing Jensen’s thoughts.  
  
“Rescuers?” Felicia tried again with what appeared to be a self-deprecating smile. “Whatever. In any case, they saved me from prison and certain death when these evil spiders attacked—“  
  
“Evil spiders? My word, child, what on Earth happened in Sheppardston?”  
  
“I’ll fill you in later,” Felicia said. “But first, this is Jared, Jensen, Alona and Genevieve. They would like an audience with the Oracle, and room and board. I promised them this in return for my rescue, but they did not rescue me because of this. They, er, they have amnesia --”  
  
“All four of them?” Caroline blinked a few times as she tried to keep up with the rapid-fire speech that Felicia was assaulting her with. The devotees all turned to look at Jensen and his companions, some of them with outright disbelief on their faces.  
  
“Yes, all four of them, and that’s why they want to see the Oracle.” Felicia’s wide eyes were fixed directly on Caroline’s face, imploring.  
  
“Of course they may stay!” Caroline said. “Devotees, quit standing around chirping at each other and make yourselves useful. Take these four to the baths and then give them rooms – the usual. Felicia, come with me to my office, I want to hear everything that transpired. Lissa, take Jared and Jensen to the baths so they may cleanse themselves. Orla, you will take Alona and Genevieve.”  
  
“Yes, Matriarch,” one of the devotees, a young woman with jet black hair and almond eyes said as she came towards Jensen and Jared.  
  
“Oh, and you four?” Caroline said as they turned to follow the devotee, “Thank you for returning Felicia.”  
  
“You’re very welcome, Ma’am,” Jared said. “It was our pleasure.”  
  
“But not – not  _that_ kind of pleasure,” Felicia piped up, eliciting giggles from the other devotees, an adorably confused look from Jared, and a stern raising of an eyebrow from Caroline.  
  
A different devotee sectioned off Alona and Genevieve, stating that the baths were divided by gender, so the girls went with her while Jared and Jensen followed the dark-haired devotee, who was apparently named Lissa, outside. The sun had started to set, and the lights had been lit and shone from windows in the various buildings, making Oracle Grove seem cozy and safe, and not a mystical place formed by dryads.  
  
“The baths are filled with water diverted from the nearby hot springs, so it’s all naturally heated. The waters are sacred to the Oracle and will cleanse you as well as purify you for your meeting with her.”  
  
Lissa stopped beside a tall tree and retrieved an orb-shaped lantern that was mounted on a long stick. It didn’t do much in the half-light of dusk, but Jensen was fairly sure he’d be grateful for the light once it became truly dark. He couldn’t imagine much moonlight trickling down through the canopy of trees.  
  
“Do you know the story behind the waters that fill the pools?” the devotee asked. Then she winced. “Sorry, I forgot that you can’t remember –“  
  
“It’s alright,” said Jared in a soothing voice. “We’re not offended. Are we, Jensen?”  
  
“Huh, no, of course not,” Jensen said, caught off-guard.  
  
“Would you like to hear the story?” Lissa asked as she led them away from the Visitors Center.  
  
“We’d love to,” Jared said with a smile. That seemed to enliven their guide, and she gave a small smile in return.  
  
Lissa beckoned them to resume following, and the light she held illuminated her, if nothing else.  
  
“A very long time ago, before the archipelago was formed, there was only the mainland and this island. There was a child born from the union of a Salamander and a mortal woman, and they named her Femaya. She grew up on the mainland, becoming a great beauty who had many suitors, but she had been betrothed early on to Veris, the God of Springtime, and so she turned away all others who would try to win her hand. There was one suitor, though, who would not be turned away. He was a demi-god himself, a child of the Sky and a human, and he would not be dissuaded.  
  
“One day when she was off on her own, he stole her and secreted her away on this island. Some say this grove is the very spot she was hidden away. The demi-god knew that if he stole Femaya when summer was waning that Veris would be at his weakest, and unable to rescue her from his island. Femaya wept for her betrothed to come and save her from the demi-god. Femaya was a creature of heat and fire, and could not abide the touch of water, and so the demigod knew she couldn’t escape from the island without help. He left her here to think about her rejection of him, certain she would change her mind. She did not, and as time passed she grew despondent, while Veris grew more and more desperate to reach her. Finally, using the last of his power he summoned land to rise from the bottom of the ocean, forming the islands of the archipelago, in the hopes that Femaya would be able to leap from island to island and be reunited with him.  
  
“The demi-god saw what Veris was doing and engaged him in battle, knowing that he was weak and easily overpowered, and so the land bridge was never completed. The demi-god left Veris lying in the mud and half-dead, where he would lie until Spring came again. The demi-god then returned to Femaya and told her that he had killed her beloved, and showed the image of him lying lifeless on the mainland. Femaya wept for days and her tears formed the Pool of Tears. We know the pool was formed by her tears because of how warm the water is, and it is still warm to this day.”  
  
“But what happened to Femaya?” Jensen wanted to know, entranced by the story.  
  
“Oh, it’s not a happy ending,” Lissa warned. “Once her well of tears ran dry she decided she would rather die than marry the demi-god, and so she stepped into the ocean. She killed herself.”  
  
“That’s so sad,” Jared said. He sounded genuinely upset by the story. Lissa nodded and was silent. As she’d told the story, she’d led them past the trees with the elevated walkways and quite a ways after that, past trees that dripped with moss and other clinging vegetation. Jensen could imagine fairies living here, flitting about from tree to tree. Above them, the sky steadily darkened and the forest below it darkened even more, so that Jensen was growing concerned about finding his way back to the grove once he was done bathing. Nearby, he heard running water.  
  
Good, they were almost to their destination.  
  
A man-made – or perhaps dryad made – fence appeared in front of them, marring the primeval feel of the surrounding forest, but it was a welcome sight nonetheless. They followed Lissa through a tall gate in the fence and found themselves standing in front of a large pool of water.  
  
“This water is from the sacred pool of the Oracle,” Lissa said. “Treat it as such.”  
  
“In other words, don’t pee in the water,” Jared whispered, leaning close to Jensen. Jensen’s eyes widened and he choked back a laugh, earning a disapproving look from their guide.  
  
“Sorry,” Jensen said. “Yes, I understand. Don’t worry; we will treat it with respect.”  
  
“Thank you,” Lissa said. She turned on her heel and proceeded to light the lamps that were arranged around the bathing pool every so often. Once the area was illuminated Jensen could truly take in the beauty of the bathing area, and it was breathtaking. The basin of the pool was carved from stone and the water was crystal clear despite the steam that rose from the surface. Around the edge of the pool a walkway of wooden planks had been fashioned. Cushioning the ground between the walkway and the privacy fence was a bed of moss that had sprouted little white flowers, and the fence itself was covered in flowering vines.  
  
“Wow,” Jensen breathed. “This is beautiful.”  
  
“Thank you,” Lissa said. “We work hard to keep it that way. There are fresh towels and robes through that door over there. Please leave your soiled clothing in the basket by the gate and we will wash it for you. It will be returned to you in the morning.”  
  
The door Lissa was referring to was attached to a small but well-built shed that looked to be part of – or was perhaps growing from – the fence.  
  
“Enjoy your bath. I’ll await you a ways down the path when you are done to lead you to your room for the night.”  
  
“Thank you,” Jensen said to Lissa’s back as she left the bathing area. She shut the gate behind her and then it was just Jensen and Jared.  
  
Jensen was suddenly shy, which was ridiculous considering he’d been completely naked when he’d met Jared. Rolling his eyes at himself, he quickly took off his clothing, deposited it in the basket and made a beeline for the water, pointedly ignoring Jared.  
  
The water was unexpectedly warm, despite what Lissa had said. He sank into it with a groan, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation of the water sapping the stress from his muscles.  
  
“Oh, that’s nice,” he heard Jared say. Jensen felt the water ripple around him as Jared entered the pool.  
  
“Mmmm,” Jensen said in agreement, which the best he could muster under the circumstances. They stayed like that a little while, both men just relaxing and enjoying the warm water.  
  
“I suppose we should actually bathe,” Jared said. Jensen opened his eyes to find Jared standing in the water directly in front of him. He lifted a hand and pushed his dripping hair out of his eyes – eyes that were fixated on Jensen’s face and full of intensity. Jared looked like he might reach out, might touch Jensen. His hand lifted slightly, and Jensen tensed, holding his breath. His skin tingled in anticipation and it confused him. Jared let his hand drop back to the water, a sheepish grin on his face, and Jensen relaxed.  
  
“What do you say, I wash your back, you wash mine?”  
  
“Sounds good to me,” Jensen agreed. There was a bar of soap and two washrags sitting on the edge of the pool, which Jared retrieved. He handed a washrag to Jensen and the soap, and then turned away.  
  
Jensen lathered the soap on the rag and then used it to gently scrub Jared’s back for him, watching the way the suds ran in rivulets over the muscles there, slowing as they reached his lower back and pooling in bubbles around his hips. Jensen rinsed the rag in the water before lifting it to Jared’s neck and squeezing, watching as the water followed the path of the suds. Jared’s wet skin reflected the light from the lamps and before he realized what he was doing, Jensen lifted his hand and ran it down Jared’s back, skin to skin, his fingers tracing the line of taut muscles. He realized he was holding his breath. Something had changed in the air – it felt charged, different.  
  
Jared turned around to face Jensen.  
  
“Oh hello there,” Jared said. “Fancy meeting you here, gorgeous.”  
  
“Do you really think this is the time for flirtation?” Jensen groused, narrowing his eyes.  
  
“I have amnesia,” Jared said with a smirk that made his eyes twinkle. “As far as I know there’s never been a better time. Turn around, I’ll get your back.”  
  
Jensen did, leaning his head forward. Jared washed his back gently yet quickly, and Jensen sighed as it relaxed him even further. Jared’s hands soon replaced the washcloth and ran over the skin of his back, down his sides. He wrapped one long arm around Jensen’s waist, easily tugging him backwards through the water until he was pressed against Jared’s naked body. Jared let his fingers explore Jensen’s torso, trailing from his sternum down his belly. Jensen shivered. They were close.  _Too close_ , Jensen thought. He turned back around to face Jared.  
  
Jared rested his forehead against Jensen’s, breathing heavily. Jensen pretended that he hadn’t just been pressed up against the beginning of Jared’s arousal.  
  
“What – what are you doing, Jared?” Jensen asked, his heart racing. Jared raised his own hand to Jensen’s face, not caressing, rather just touching.  
“I have no idea,” Jared said, before leaning forward and closing the distance between them. It took Jensen just a moment to realize that yes, this was happening and that Jared was  _kissing_ him.  
  
Jensen stopped breathing. This kiss had stolen that from him. It was warm, it was gentle and tentative. This kiss was a question, and that question sought an answer that Jensen wasn’t able to give. Not now. Perhaps not anytime soon.  
  
Jensen pulled away. His breath returned, a little ragged – a little heavy.  
  
“Jared, we can’t,” Jensen said.  
  
“We can,” Jared said. “I know that I’m not married to Alona or Genevieve. I can feel that. I may have amnesia, but I don’t think that would change my preference, do you?”  
  
“I don’t know, Jared,” Jensen sighed. “Maybe?”  
  
“I doubt it,” Jared said. “But I don’t want to do anything you don’t want me to do. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”  
  
Part of Jensen wanted to lean forward and draw Jared down into another kiss, but the rational part of his brain knew that was a bad idea.  
  
“I can’t do this right now, Jared,” Jensen said finally. “You don’t know me yet –  _I_ don’t know me yet. I don’t even know what I look like, not really. You say you know that you aren’t with Genevieve or Alona, but it’s possible that you could be with someone. You could have a family. I could have a family.”  
  
Jared’s eyes softened. “Fair enough,” he said, but he sounded disappointed. Jensen stood firm though. He at least needed to hear what the Oracle had to say before he entertained the idea of kissing Jared again -- despite how much he might want to in the meantime.  
  


* * *

After they bathed they were shown to their room. This one was situated at the base of a tree instead of elevated, and was very cozy with two beds and a table. Some baskets of fruit, bread and glasses of water had been set out. Lissa said it was to tide them over until breakfast since they had arrived too late for dinner.  
  
Jensen and Jared ate all of it, and then Jared disrobed and climbed into the bed he’d claimed as his own. It was then Jensen noticed that there was a mirror in the room. Curious, he walked over to the mirror and stared. He’d seen his reflection in the river, of course, but this was different. Seeing his reflection in the river water had been distorted, like looking through a windowpane in a rainstorm. This was clear, and at the same time unexpected and surprising.  
  
That he was good-looking was obvious. It explained the looks he’d gotten from people – it explained the looks from  _Jared_. Jensen was a little disconcerted by his reflection. Nothing seemed wrong about it, but he was doubly glad that he’d stopped Jared in the pool. It was possible that Jared was only attracted to him on a purely aesthetical basis.  
  
He looked again, evaluating. He hadn’t expected to have such green eyes. His hair was lighter than the river had shown him, more of a dirty blond than brown and he had freckles. Huh. Freckles were cute on a kid but a grown man had no business having freckles.  
  
“I like your freckles,” Jared said from his bed. When Jensen threw him a surprised look Jared grinned.  
  
“You just growled the word freckles, did you not realize?”  
  
Jensen shook his head no and went back to examining his reflection. Besides the freckles, he noticed his ears stuck out a little and when he scrunched his face up, he catalogued the slight crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes.  
  
“Are you going to stand there looking at yourself all night?” Jared asked, his grin narrowing into a smirk. “I mean, you’re pretty, but you know what they say about vanity.”  
  
“No, not really,” Jensen said, turning to face the other man. “What do they say?”  
  
Jared shrugged and his eyes twinkled in amusement. “I can’t really remember.” He tapped the side of his temple with one long finger. Jensen rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress his smile.  
  
“You’re ridiculous,” Jensen said, moving over to his own bed and snuffing the candles that lit the room.  
  
“Got you away from the mirror, didn’t it?” Jared teased.  
  
“Oh, go to sleep, Jared,” Jensen said, laughter in his voice.  
  
“Goodnight, Jensen,” Jared replied, and that was that.


	6. Chapter 6

 

  
  
_I was born on the northernmost island of the Archipelago to a mother who died giving me life. The island I was born on was the first of the Stepping Stones, the first island Veris raised from the sea in his doomed quest to be re-united with Femaya.  
  
Father was distant – obsessed with the buttons and fabric that made up the life of a tailor. My older siblings were too old to care about the youngest one who tottered after them and quick to leave the nest.  
  
They became soldiers.  
  
I became a soldier as well. I didn’t say goodbye to my father. He would have forbidden it – as the youngest and the only child left he assumed I’d be taking over the family business, which I did not care to do. I left under cover of night – a cowardly, childlike move perhaps, but it is what I did.  
  
I remember sailing to the mainland, my passage bought with hard-earned and long-saved coin. The wind whipped my hair into my eyes, stinging them.  
  
I found a cause – hunt the dragons. Destroy them. We were led by a wizard, a mighty wizard whom I never saw, only heard orders from. We were a thousand men and women strong on a noble mission.  
  
We were saving mankind.  
  
We were on a quest.  
  
We saw the young dragon alight on a tree branch and we stalked it. We saw that which would never be believed, a dragon reforming into a human shape.  
  
It was a child. It was a beautiful boy child with dark hair and red lips. His eyes were like emeralds.  
  
I knew he was about to die._  
  
Half-breed _, is what my fellow soldiers called him. Abomination, was another word they chose. The child ran; my fellows caught him and a woman who looked so like him that she could only be his mother._  
  
 _They tied her to a tree and berated her as a woman who slept with beasts and birthed half-men monsters._  
  
 _Sick. I felt sick by it all. I cannot remember if I tried to stop it._  
  
 _I cannot remember if I helped with the murder of the mother and the child._  
  
 _I’d like to say I didn’t do it. I’d like to say that I tried to help them escape. What I remember is staring down at their bloodied corpses while my face bled from scratches inflicted by the baby dragon’s claws._  
  
 _I’d like to say I tried to help them._  
  
 _It would explain why I was held down and beaten and then whipped, the skin on my back opening up to add more of my own blood to the soil and air, like an offering._  
 _This was a war and I’d sworn fealty to the cause._  
  
 _This was war._  
  
 _I remember the murmurings – that the dragons were on the run and that their numbers were dwindling. The next dragon we were to pursue and rid the world of had managed to fly all the way out to the Archipelago and was laying waste the countryside next to Sheppardston._  
  
 _We were impressed. Dragons are not known for their flight stamina due to their massive bulk. They can fly fast, but not far._  
  
 _It makes them easier to hunt._  
  
 _They exhaust easily._  
  
 _We set sail for the largest island in the Archipelago - the Island of Mainsail - and landed in Southport. It was only a few days march to Sheppardston and the wizard who led us made arrangements with the Mayor for our sustenance while we fought the dread beast._  
  
 _I remember the battle._  
  
 _It was fierce._  
  
 _The dragon had magic, and summoned golems formed of air and shadow to engage us._  
  
 _I would have thought the dragon would use its golems to escape – to fly away under the cover of night._  
  
 _Much like I had when I left my home, but the dragon stayed, spewing flame that seemed to burn only the flesh of my fellow soldiers, leaving piles of ash and un-burnt garments lying on the ground._  
  
 _The wizard was throwing spells to combat the dragon and its golems, but to be honest we were at a bit of a standstill, our army and the dragon._  
  
 _Mutual checkmate, if there was such a thing._  
  
 _The bright light that surrounded us came out of nowhere, and I ran._  
  
 _Once again the coward, but this time it saved my life._  
  
 _My compatriots were screaming as they died – but no, they didn’t die, not completely. I watched as their legs turned to roots that sought the ground, rooting themselves into the earth as their arms grew high, turning into trees with blood for sap._  
  
 _Some limbs did not become limbs. They separated from the bodies of the soldiers and fell, useless, to the ground._  
  
 _My own voice was hoarse with screaming and I nearly escaped the bright light that was destroying us all, but I was enveloped._  
  
 _I remember my feet leaving the earth._  
  
 _I remember my entire body lifting skyward._  
  
 _I remember everything going black as the light left and the darkness took over._


	7. Chapter 7

  
  
Jensen awoke to the sound of a bell tolling outside. He rolled over onto his side and sighed as he remembered his dreams. Glancing over at Jared, he saw the other man was already awake, sitting up in his own bed with a disconcerted expression on his face.  
  
“Bad dreams?” Jensen asked, almost afraid of the answer. Jared glanced over at him as if surprised, nodded, and then looked away again. He drew his lower lip into his mouth and worried it between his teeth, a haunted expression on his face. A thought popped into Jensen’s mind, at once improbable and unsettling.  
  
“Jared,” Jensen said, “If you don’t mind, can you tell me what you dreamt of?” Jared looked back over at him and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could he was interrupted by persistent knocking at the door. Jared jumped from bed to answer it, throwing his robe on as he did. As he reached for the door the person on the other side of it knocked again.  
  
Jared opened the door a crack as he was tightening the belt on his robe and the door was forcibly pushed the rest of the way open. Jensen only had a second to wonder which devotee would be so rude when he realized that it was actually Alona who had pushed her way into the room. Jensen drew his blankets further up his body. He was still naked, after all.  
  
“Oh!” Alona shrieked and then held up her hand to shield her vision. “I’m so sorry! I thought you’d be dressed.”  
  
Jensen noticed that unlike Jared and himself, the girls must have already been given clothing to wear; Alona was dressed exactly like a devotee.  
  
“What’s going on?” Jared asked. He grabbed Jensen’s robe from where he’d draped it and tossed it onto the bed.  
  
“It’s Genevieve, she’s inconsolable!”  
  
“Inconsolable? About what?” Jensen queried, blinking as he tried to flush the remaining grogginess from his brain. He ran his hands over his face and rubbed his eyes, hoping it would help wake him up. It helped, a little.  
  
“Did something happen?” Jared wanted to know.  
  
“I don’t know – she just woke up sobbing and I tried to talk to her but she won’t answer my questions. I thought maybe one of you might be able to get through to her?”  
  
“One of us?” Jensen asked.  
  
“I don’t know!” Alona exclaimed. “Maybe! Please? We can’t just leave her crying into her pillow.” Alona’s distress was genuine, and he nodded, about to agree to try to help, but Jared beat him to it.  
  
“Alright, we’ll come with you,” Jared said, his tone urgent. “Uh, just give us a minute so Jensen can put his robe on, alright?”  
  
Alona looked over at Jensen and blushed, despite the amused smile that curved her lips.  
  
“Alright, but hurry! I’ll wait outside.”  
  
With that she flounced outside and shut the door behind her. Jensen quickly stood and covered his nudity with the robe, and together Jared and Jensen met Alona who led them to the room she’d shared with Genevieve.  
  
“Gen? Sweetie, are you still in here?” Alona asked. In reply all that could be heard were muffled sobs, which Jensen took to mean that yes, she was there. “I brought Jensen and Jared, do you think you’d like to talk to one of them?”  
  
From behind her, Jared reached around and pushed the door open all the way, where Jensen could see Genevieve – or what he assumed was Genevieve – hidden beneath her blankets and barely more than a lump on the bed. She didn’t respond and Alona sighed.  
  
“See what I mean?” she made a sweeping gesture with her hand that clearly said,  _be my guest_.  
  
Jared went first, and Jensen followed, unsure and vaguely unsettled. Jared sat down on the bed, next to the lump and started rubbing what was probably Genevieve’s back. Jensen hoped so, anyway. Things might get rather awkward if it wasn’t.  
  
“Hey, Genevieve, are you alright?”  
  
Jensen arched an eyebrow, and Jared winced.  
  
“Hey, it’s alright, Genevieve,” Jared said. Jealousy bloomed in Jensen’s stomach, unexpected and burning as he watched Jared’s large hands continue to rub circles on Genevieve’s back.  
  
“Was it the dreams?” Jensen asked suddenly, following a hunch. With that the blankets were flung back and Genevieve emerged, her face flushed from crying.  
  
“You saw it too?” Genevieve hiccupped. “You saw the baby dragon and the soldiers and the battle and – and – and-“ Genevieve’s face crumpled and Jared drew her into his arms, embracing her tightly. She allowed herself to be held and she wrapped her arms around him in return. Jensen moved over to the bed next to her and awkwardly rested his hand on her shoulder.  
  
“I had the same dream,” Jensen said, looking up at Jared. He remembered Jared’s own haunted expression when he’d woken. “Jared, did you see it too? And the night before last, did you happen to have a dream where you were a dryad?”  
  
“I definitely had that dream,” Alona said, taking the spot on the opposite bed that Jensen had vacated.  
  
“Which one?” Jensen asked.  
  
“Oh, ah, both of them, actually,” Alona replied. “It didn’t reduce me to hysterical sobbing though.”  
  
“M-maybe you’re just hard-hearted,” Genevieve said with a glare aimed at Alona.  
  
“Maybe I am,” Alona shot back with venom. “I didn’t say it didn’t disturb me, I just said-“  
  
“Hey, hey now,” Jared soothed, running his hand up and down Genevieve’s back and really, Jensen shouldn’t have  _still_ felt jealous, should he? After all, it was  _Jensen_ that Jared had kissed in the pool. Jensen’s thoughts slipped back to that moment, and remembered how it felt to have Jared’s warm mouth slotting so effortlessly over his. The memory settled deep in his belly, pushing away the remaining tendrils of the nightmare – for it  _had_ been a nightmare.  
  
“Don’t argue,” Jared admonished the two women. “We’re all in this together, and we’re going to speak with the Oracle today. I’m sure we’ll have some answers after that, alright?”  
  
Alona harrumphed and crossed her arms over her chest, but nodded her agreement. Genevieve sniffled against Jared’s robe and nodded as well, bringing up a hand to rub at her eyes.  
  
“Sorry, I guess I overreacted,” Genevieve mumbled.  
  
“No, not at all,” Jared affirmed. Jensen saw Alona start to roll her eyes, but she must have caught herself because the eye roll was aborted nearly as soon as it was begun. Jensen bit his lip to hide his own smirk at that and patted Genevieve’s shoulder reassuringly, and hoped Jared was right about the Oracle having some answers for them.  
  


* * *

  
  
Soon after calming Genevieve down, a devotee fetched them for a breakfast of fresh fruits and honey-glazed pastries. Genevieve remained quiet throughout the meal, still a little embarrassed at her extreme reaction to the dream, Jensen assumed.  
  
Jared exclaimed multiple times over the honey-glazed pastries and wondered aloud if he could manage to sneak any with him when breakfast was over, but Jensen helpfully pointed out that their robes, while perfectly modest and functional, did not have pockets. Jared pouted until Felicia joined them with three extra pastries wrapped in a napkin, especially for Jared. Jared’s grin was infectious, and Jensen noticed that with his dimples on display like that he looked like an innocent little boy.  
  
He wondered what he could do to make Jared smile like that. Once more his mind wandered to the bathing pool last night, and he shook his head to clear his thoughts.  
  
“I’ll be the one taking you to see the Oracle,” Felicia said. “I’ve never taken guests to see the Oracle,” she continued. She leaned forward, her eyes darkening and her voice taking on a hushed tone, as if she were sharing a secret. “It’s kind of a promotion. I guess it’s a  _congratulations-on-surviving-Sheppardston_  gift. And even better news – Caroline sent those emissaries packing first thing this morning.”  
  
“Just don’t get yourself kidnapped again,” Alona said dryly, earning a dirty look from Felicia.  
  
“Don’t plan on it,” Felicia said, unable to hold the scowl for long before her wide smile returned. “Jared and Jensen, your clothes are ready and waiting for you in your room – the girls patched them up for you so if you see Lissa you might want to say thank you.”  
  
“Oh, that was very kind of her,” said Jensen. “Do we just meet you back here or will you come get us when it’s time to see the Oracle?”  
  
“You can meet me here as soon as you’re dressed,” Felicia said, and with that the four excused themselves. It didn’t take long for them to get ready and within a few minutes they were back.  
  
“Alright,” Felicia said, trying to put on a serious face although she could barely contain her excitement. “Follow me.”  
  
Follow her they did, past the bathing pools and down the side of a hill, down past thickly growing bramble and tall trees, past massive granite boulders that looked like they’d been deposited randomly about the landscape by giants.  
  
Down, down, down they walked, the trail well traveled but still wild. Finally the way leveled off, and as they rounded one of the giant boulders, they stood before a large pool of water fed by a waterfall. Beside the waterfall the mouth of a cave yawned.  
  
“This is the Pool of the Lady’s Tears,” Felicia breathed. “This water is sacred to the Oracle.”  
  
“Has there always been an Oracle here?” Genevieve wondered aloud.  
  
“Not always,” Felicia said. “The gift of prophecy only comes once every generation – sometimes it skips a generation and that’s usually when wars break out. In any case, Adrianne was located and brought here at a young age and she’s been here ever since.”  
  
“Do you make her live in the cave?” Alona sounded affronted, and Felicia looked scandalized.  
  
“What? Of course not! She lives in the grove with the rest of the devotees when she’s not doing the Oracle, er, thing. She’s free to leave whenever she wants – like if she wants to have a family or get married or something. She’s not a prisoner!”  
  
Jensen was pretty sure that was the most passionate he’d heard Felicia get about something. Even though he’d only known her for a couple of days, from what he’d learned about her was that she tended to stay calm. Once more Jared came through, soothing ruffled feathers and calming everyone down. Finally, in a bit of huff, Felicia led them around the pool to a staircase that led into the mouth of the cave. Inside the cave was warm and dry, the walls lit with the same sort of lamps that had surrounded the bathing pool.  
  
They walked for a little ways, the cave twisting and turning as it burrowed deep into the earth. All along the walls cave moss grew, the moisture in the plants sparkling from the light given off by the lamps.  
  
When he’d first seen the cave, Jensen had expected it to be damp, dark and creepy. He’d expected a shrouded old crone to be waiting just within the mouth of the yawning cavern, waiting for them with dark, beady eyes. What he found defied his expectations. He glanced over at Jared and was relieved to see his surprise mirrored on the other man’s face.  
  
“It’s beautiful!” Alona breathed, and the other’s agreed. Felicia looked back at them with a proud smirk on her face.  
  
“Here we are,” said Felicia as they entered a great cavern. Standing at the other end was a tall woman draped in white cloth which lent her an ancient air, almost as if she were a goddess herself.  
  
“Oracle Adrianne,” Felicia said, taking a knee. Jensen and the other three remained standing, but gave each other awkward glances as they wondered if they were expected to take a knee as well. Jared gave a tiny shrug, and they stayed as they were.  
  
“I have brought four travelers to see you,” Felicia continued, her voice solemn. “They returned me to the Grove after saving me from Mayor Sheppard and in return for that they would like to speak with you.”  
  
“I’ve been expecting you four,” the woman, the Oracle, Adrianne said. She lifted a hand and brushed a stray lock of hair behind one ear and smiled at the travelers. In that mane of hair a headband crafted of delicate silver filigree sparkled.  
  
“You knew we would come to see you?” Jared gasped. Jensen thought he oughtn’t sound so surprised. She was an oracle, after all.  
  
“Yes, I foresaw your coming months ago, I just did not see the when of it.” Adrianne came closer and looked from Jared to Alona to Genevieve until finally her eyes alit on Jensen.  
  
“This is what I know of you – you awoke with naught but your name on your lips, but now you are having dreams. These dreams are your memories, but you are all having the same dreams, am I correct?”  
  
“That’s right,” Jensen confirmed. “Can you tell us who we are?” He took a deep breath. “Can you tell me what we are?”  
  
“You are children born of chaos,” the oracle said, tilting her head. “Where you go chaos and wither follows.”  
  
“ _We_ are not Witherkin!” Alona argued, her expression aghast. Jensen felt the same. He hadn’t been spontaneously created in that forest. Surely he’d existed before that day. Right?  
  
“No, you are nothing so vile as that. You four all existed separately before the cataclysm that changed you. Or perhaps I should say re-arranged you? That may be a more accurate statement. “  
  
“Oracle,” Jared said. “I don’t understand what you are saying. Please speak plainly?”  
  
The corners of Adrianne’s lips quirked up in a small smile. “I’m sorry, I do not mean to speak in riddles. This is what I mean. The four of you did exist prior to waking up in that forest. You are strangers to each other. But there is more, and it is not going to be easy to hear.”  
  
The Oracle slowly paced back and forth in front of them, seemingly troubled. Finally she stopped.  
  
“Your names are your own, but I cannot tell  _what_ each of you are. You are all parts of each other. One of you was a dryad, one of you was a dragon, two of you were human, although of those two one was a soldier and one was a wizard. I cannot tell which is which. Whatever magic clashed that night seeped into your very souls and entwined you with each other. Until you get it sorted out, you will all share the traits and memories of Dryad, Dragon, Soldier and Wizard. I am sorry.”  
  
There was a long moment of silence as Jensen and his companions tried to take that in. Jensen supposed it made sense – the way they’d been able to grow the trees in the forest and then the magic he’d tapped into to get away from the soldiers at Sheppardston. But dragon! One of them was a dragon! Jensen glanced over at Jared and Alona and Genevieve, and found them all giving each other, and him, appraising looks. Trying to ascertain who was what.  
  
“That’s – impossible,” he finally managed to say.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Adrianne said again.  
  
“Wait,” Jared said, his voice suddenly loud in the cavern. “You said ‘until we sort it out’. How do we do that?”  
  
“I know of one way only,” the Oracle said. “You must journey to the Pool of Restoration and partake of the waters there.”  
  
“The Pool of Restoration?” Alona said with disbelief in her voice. “Isn’t that the Fountain of Youth?”  
  
“And a myth?” Felicia piped up. She was immediately met with a stern look from the Oracle and Felicia mimed stitching her lips shut, which earned a laugh from Adrianne.  
  
“It’s real,” Adrianne said. “You must go south, to the very tip of our island. You will meet with a man there – I cannot see his name but you must secure passage to the southernmost island in the archipelago. There lives a man there by the name of Misha who can create a map for you that will guide you to the Pool of Restoration.”  
  
Jensen took a deep breath, surprised to find he hadn’t been breathing.  
  
“Two more things I can tell you. One, you mustn’t linger in any one place for too long, for the Witherkin  _are_ attracted to the magic that interwove you and will re-appear if given the chance. However, the further you get from the forest of bone and blood that birthed you, the less of a chance of that happening there is. Only completing this journey will eliminate the threat from the Witherkin. “  
  
Adrianne took a deep breath of her own, and let her gaze slip from face to face like a visual caress before continuing.  
  
“Two, and this is the most difficult thing I must tell you. Two of you will not complete this quest.”  
  


  


* * *

  
  
After the audience with the Oracle, the four travelers followed Felicia back to the Grove in silence. The information they’d received hung heavily over them like a dark cloud.  
  
Two of them would fail. What did that mean? Would two of them die? Jensen briefly considered not going on the journey – but that wasn’t really an option. Even if they tried to settle down and build new lives for themselves the threat of the Witherkin was too great.  
  
Back at the Grove, Felicia tried to engage them in some activities to take their minds off of things, but Genevieve asked if she could simply retire to her room for a while, and the other three asked to do the same. That was how Jared and Jensen found themselves back in their room, lounging on their beds before the lunch hour had passed.  
  
“Dragons breathe fire,” Jared mused, lying on his back in his bed and tossing a pebble up in the air before catching it again. He tossed it high into the air and then suddenly turned on his side to face Jensen, wincing when it fell back and hit him on his shoulder. Jensen couldn’t hide his smirk. If nothing else, Jared was highly distractible. “Do you think we can breathe fire?”  
  
Jensen looked around their quarters. Nearly everything was intricately carved from wood, and everything that wasn’t wood was most likely flammable. “I don’t know, and this is hardly the place to try that ability.”  
  
Jared rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.  
  
“Of course I’m not going to try to breathe fire  _here_ ,” he assured Jensen. “But do you think we  _can_?”  
  
“So that’s what you want to focus on out of all of this?” Jensen asked, a tiny surge of anger uncoiling in his belly. “We get told that half of us are going to fail to, I don’t know, restore ourselves and all you want to focus on is if we can breathe fire or not?”  
  
Jared looked hurt and focused his gaze on the floor, but Jensen wasn’t anywhere near finished with his little tirade.  
  
“For all we know, two of us are going to  _die_ ,” Jensen said, failing to keep the venom out of his voice. “And we don’t even have the option to say, no thanks, I don’t need those memories. I’m fine the way I am – because I have to say, Jared, after the two dreams we’ve had so far I’m not sure I want those memories back. One of us murdered a child.”  
  
“We did not!” Jared said, jerking his head up. Anger sparked in his eyes as he stared at Jensen. “We tried to help them escape! In fact, we should be able to tell which one of us is the soldier by the scars on our back. Take off your shirt!”  
  
“I’m sorry, what?” The change in subject left Jensen’s head reeling a bit. “Why?”  
  
“So I can see if you have scars or not.”  
  
“And if I don’t, are you going to strip search the girls?”  
  
Jared rolled back over onto his back and groaned. He found the pebble he’d been tossing around and chucked it at Jensen. It hit him on the knee, which was surprisingly painful considering how small the pebble was.  
  
“Besides,” Jensen sighed, “you washed my back last night. Did you see any scars then?”  
  
“No,” Jared conceded. “But to be fair, I really wasn’t looking for scars and the light was dim. My mind was in other places.”  
  
“I’ll bet,” Jensen snorted. Jared narrowed his eyes.  
  
“You know, I didn’t hear you complaining,” he said, pointing a long finger in Jensen’s direction. Jensen closed his mouth and looked up at the ceiling.  
  
He really couldn’t argue with that.  
  
  


* * *

  
  
They were summoned for lunch, which Jensen picked at since he was still thinking things over. The food was delicious and both Alona and Jared seemed to have no problem with loss of appetite.  
  
“Here, this is for you,” Felicia announced, dropping a heavy wooden object on the table.  
  
“What on earth is  _that_?” Jared asked with wide eyes, not even bothering to hide his surprise.  
  
“This, my dears, is called a lute,” Felicia said with a grin. “Apparently, it has been here for generations and the Oracle seems to think you are just the people to give it to.”  
  
Jensen reached out a hand and tentatively plucked one of the strings. The note resonated and a memory came to mind, of an instrument very similar to this one tucked in his arms, playing for friends or family perhaps.  
  
 _Shame_ , someone in his memories said.  _Music is for women and imbeciles_.  
  
Jensen scowled as he picked up the instrument.  
  
“Can you really play that?” Jared asked, looking at Jensen with skepticism. Jensen shrugged.  
  
“As well as you can, probably,” he said. Jared looked confused for a moment until the meaning of Jensen’s words sunk in. For his part, Jensen started strumming what was a surprisingly familiar tune, and in the next moment Alona and Genevieve joined in with the lyrics. It was a catchy little tune, and Felicia started clapping along with it as the other devotees left their lunches and came over to watch, smiles on most of their faces. Soon everyone was clapping along, and Jensen couldn’t suppress the smile that stretched across his face. On a hunch, he passed the lute to Jared, who picked up where Jensen left off without missing a beat, to cheers and applause from the devotees. When the song finished all four of them took a little bow.  
  
“That was seriously impressive,” Felicia laughed. “You should take your show on the road.”  
  
“Maybe we will,” Alona said. “Guess the Oracle was right about giving us that thing after all. Who has even heard of a lute anymore? “  
  
“You said this thing was old,” Jensen said, taking the lute back from Jared and inspecting it. “Shouldn’t it look old?”  
  
“That’s the thing about the lute,” Felica said. “We’ve never maintained it but it never even gets dusty. We think it has some sort of magic protection.”  
  
“Tell the Oracle thank you,” said Jensen. “Maybe we can sing for our supper wherever it is we go.”  
  
“Come on, play another song!” one of the devotees begged, and the others chimed in their agreement.  
  
“Yes, play!” Felicia said.  
  
And so they did.


	8. Chapter 8

 

  
  
_I remember rage – all consuming, like fires, burning in my soul, indelible, like a brand on my skin.  
  
I remember before the rage, when I was, while not happy, content. I’d been identified as a user of magic at a very young age. Two or three, perhaps.  
  
I was born on the mainland, in the western town of Veridia. That I was talented with magic was not unexpected. Veridia was founded by magic users who’d made it a safe haven for those skilled in the craft or wanting to learn. There was no official school, nothing so fancy as that. No, one either had the gift or one didn’t, and if one did they were taken under the wing of someone older and wiser. They were mentored.  
  
I remember my parents. They laughed a lot, and told me to mind the earth, to make it a better place than I’d found it. I was young, and didn’t understand what they meant.  
  
I do now.  
  
I was fourteen years old when the dragons attacked. We’d done nothing to provoke them, and they descended on the town like thunderclouds.  
  
I was sitting under my favorite tree with my mentor, an elderly man who I’d known all my life. He was like a second father to me.  
  
He was also the first person I ever saw die. The dragon’s claws pierced his stomach and dragged upwards. The blood that gushed forth was so, so red and I was sure I was dreaming.  
  
I would see many more deaths before this day was out.  
  
My parents were included in that number.  
  
Surreal. That’s what it was. Surreal. The screams as people were literally torn apart or set on fire.  
  
No one was spared, but some escaped. The town was decimated and I swore an oath as the moon finally rose over the smoking ruins and the charred bodies of my hometown.  
  
All dragons must die.  
  
Who knew the reasons behind their attack today? Who cared, really, when all the reasons in the world couldn’t bring back my friends, my family or my mentor.  
I remember sobbing for what seemed like weeks before picking myself up and embarking on my quest.  
  
I saw dragons slain. Oh, how many I saw slain - monsters 'til the last breath of flame was snuffed out and then simple resources as their scales were harvested and sold for potions to fund my army.  
  
Yes, my army. It was ridiculously easy to find followers, for the news of the massacre at Veridia had spread far and wide. My army was comprised of those who sought vengeance for the deaths of their relatives, those who’d never liked the dragons to begin with, and young upstarts looking to make a name for themselves as soldiers or mercenaries.  
  
I didn’t care why they followed me.  
  
I only cared that they _ did _, and did so without questions._  
  
 _I remember the rumors. Dragons had grown scarce, thanks to my efforts. They weren’t stupid – these dragons – and that’s what made them so dangerous._  
  
 _They tried going into hiding, but I would find them. There was no where one could go that I could not follow._  
  
 _The rumors were that the last dragon in existence had tried to escape, flying all the way from the Mainland to the Verisian Islands, sometimes called the Stepping Stones, usually simply referred to as the Archipelago. The people who live there never refer to the Mainland by the proper name for our country, even though they’re a part of it. No, it’s always just the Mainland or the Archipelago. But that’s of no matter now._  
  
 _So this dragon had flown to the islands. What a foolish move – as if my army couldn’t secure ships to follow. Did this dragon really think that it could escape me? But then, who even knew if dragons really thought at all. Perhaps they were driven by instinct only, which begged the question – why did they attack my hometown?_  
 _I didn’t expect the dragon to be a magic user. I hadn’t known that was possible, but I couldn’t let my army know that._  
  
 _I’d come unprepared for a battle of this scale. I’d been arrogant and a fool. This was a trap for my army as surely as it was a trap for the dragon. We’d assured our mutual destruction._  
  
 _The spells we hurled at each other were of the darkest magic and intended to destroy. They collided, our spells, and were then corrupted by an unknown, ancient magic that seemed to come from the very ground beneath our feet._  
  
 _We were subverted. We were destroyed and reformed, all of us._  
  
 _There’s a forest there now, where we were destroyed._  
  
 _The Forest of Bone and Blood._  
  
 _That is our birthplace._


	9. Chapter 9

  
  
The next morning dawned with a cover of clouds that were deceptively bright. Overhead, the sky was nearly yellow, almost as if as if the sunlight had gotten trapped between the clouds and the earth. Looking at the sky warily, Jensen made his way to breakfast with Jared and the others. They were joined almost immediately by Felicia, who was wearing a thick riding cloak over her usual devotee uniform.  
  
“You,” she said dramatically, “are going to Southport today. Oracle’s orders. You should know, though, that Caroline sent our purloined horses back to Sheppardston with the emissaries.”  
  
“What? Why?” Alona demanded to know. She sounded angry, but Jensen didn’t jump in to defend or argue, he sat at the breakfast table and waited for Felicia to continue. She looked a little taken aback by Alona’s outburst, but her smile only faltered a little.  
  
“How are we supposed to get to Southport without-“  
  
“Alona,” Jared said gently. “Let’s hear her out, alright?”  
  
Alona’s lips pinched shut and she crossed her arms, but she did stop her tirade.  
  
“There’s a –“ Felicia took a deep breath and started over. “There’s a railway being built east of here, over on the plains. We thought that we’d ride over there – we do have horses of our own here – and see if you could catch a ride down to Southport on the train.”  
  
“And if they don’t let us ride on the train, what will we do then?” Genevieve asked. Alona nodded emphatically.  
  
“We’ll figure it out from there, I guess,” Felicia said.

* * *

  
  
The train ride down to Southport was unpleasant. The train was loud and bumpy, jostling the passengers from side to side as it chugged, churned, and lurched its way down the track. There were no seats. Jared, Genevieve, Alona and Jensen were seated in a boxcar that was meant to be filled with construction supplies, and so the floor of the car was covered in sawdust. Jensen was sure the sawdust was alive and on a quest to infiltrate his trousers. His companions seemed to be facing the same dilemma, if the way they shifted their positions from minute to minute was any indication.  
  
Overhead, the clouds were darkening from yellow to a sickly blue-green that threatened to bring much needed summer rain, but since the boxcar didn’t have a roof, he prayed that the rain would hold off until they could get to Southport.  
  
His prayers went unanswered. Or, if they were, then that answer was a big, resounding no. Jensen supposed he had no room to complain, after all the ride down to Southport was free since the train was returning for supplies anyway. Thankfully the clouds quickly emptied their burden and drifted elsewhere, but the four were now drenched and sitting in soggy sawdust. Jensen was really hoping they would find warm beds in Southport. He eyed the lute that he’d propped against the wall of the car and idly wondered if a song might cheer everyone up, or at least distract them from the miserable riding conditions, but looking at his fellow travelers he dismissed the idea.  
  
Genevieve had been mostly silent throughout the morning and subsequent train ride, not an unusual feat for her, but her eyes were haunted and Jensen was a little worried about her.  
  
“So, these dreams,” he said. “Do you think we should talk about them?”  
  
Genevieve, who’d positioned herself in the corner of the car, drew her knees up under her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. She wasn’t shivering, but Jensen imagined she was probably cold nonetheless.  
  
“What’s there to talk about?” Alona said, and she sounded defensive. Jensen sighed.  
  
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But they’re obviously bothering all of us.”  
  
“So we’ve all had horrible lives,” Alona said. “I’m sure everyone has a sob story or two. Let’s just deal with it and move on.”  
  
“I hate them,” Genevieve said. “I don’t want any more memories, if that’s what they are. The Oracle said that two of us wouldn’t complete this quest. Maybe I don’t  _want_ to.”  
  
“That’s cheery,” Jensen heard Jared mutter under his breath. “Maybe,” he said, this time loud enough to be heard by everyone over the train, “we should try to guess who is who. Or who is what. I’ll go first.” Jared didn’t wait for anyone’s consent before he began his little game. Jensen wondered if perhaps Jared didn’t want to talk about the memories, or if perhaps this was his way of doing so. Either way Jensen felt a little annoyed.  
  
“Alright, so one of us is a dragon, one’s a wizard, one’s a soldier, and one’s a dryad. I’m obviously the dryad.” Jared smiled, the curve of his mouth showing that he didn’t quite believe his own words. “I think, hmm, Alona, you’re the dragon, Genevieve is the soldier and Jensen, you’re the wizard.”  
  
Jensen couldn’t help but smile. “I’m the wizard? Nah, I’m the dragon, of course.”  
  
“Why do you get to be the dragon? I’m the dragon,” Alona said. “Can you imagine? Being able to fly? I’d love that.”  
  
“That would be incredible,” Genevieve said, her eyes darting from one person to the next as if she were afraid to voice her opinion. “I think Jensen’s the dryad, and I think Jared’s the soldier. Although Jared could be the dryad, he’s certainly tall enough to  _be_ a tree, I suppose.”  
  
Jared laughed, his dimples coming out in full force as he leaned back against the side of the railcar. He stretched his arms over his head, spreading his fingers in an attempt to look like a tree.  
  
“I’m a dryad,” he laughed. “Come climb in my branches.”  
  
Jensen felt a strange churning in his stomach, and realized that he was tempted by the offer. His mind filled with images, once again, of Jared in the bathing pool. Not once, but twice over he’d had Jared next to him in the water, both of them completely naked, and the second time Jared hadn’t tried anything. Jensen was regretting that he’d said no that first night.  
  
Oh, was he ever.

* * *

  
  
A bustling port city, Southport was much, much larger than Sheppardston. They reached the outskirts of the town long before they were anywhere close to the city center. The train yard was just outside the town, and Jensen could see the bare bones of what was most likely going to be the train station at some point.  
  
Jensen couldn’t help feeling a little excited about the island of Mainsail finally getting its own railway. The steam locomotive had been invented nearly fifty years ago or so, and the Mainland had miles upon miles of railways, all going to different cities and pushing the economy of the more distant towns upwards and onwards. He wondered if perhaps someday there might be bridges linking the islands that were closer together, and how things would change once that happened. It would be very interesting to see, but he didn’t know if he’d be around to see it. If he was the dryad, he probably wouldn’t care about mundane things like human travel once he was fully restored. The same thing could be said if he were the dragon, he supposed. Plus there was the small detail of two of their party failing the quest. He may not even survive to see the railway on Mainsail finished. The thought made him unbelievably morose. There was too much to see yet -- too much to do.  
  
“Hey, are you alright?” he heard Jared ask him with a poke to his shoulder. “You’re just sitting there, and it’s time to get off the train.”  
  
Jensen jerked his head up, looking around in surprise. The train had indeed stopped, and now that Jensen noticed it, the air surrounding him seemed too quiet without the steady chug-chug of the locomotive. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed.  
  
“Well,” said Genevieve, jumping down from the railcar and favoring her ankle for a moment when she landed wrong, “We’re in Southport. What now?”  
  
“You’re only barely in Southport,” said the engineer as he stepped down from the engine car. “I’m going home for the night, but I can give you a lift into the city proper if you want. Do you have a place to stay yet?”  
  
“Not yet,” Jared answered for all of them. “But we would appreciate a ride if it’s not inconvenient.”  
  
“Not at all,” the engineer said. “Let me go hook up the wagon and you all can ride with me.”  
  
“Thanks,” Jared said. “Do you need any help with the wagon?”  
  
“Nah,” the other man said with a smile. “Hortense and Bessie – those are my horses – can almost hook themselves up by now, so why don’t you walk around and stretch your legs a bit while I get the wagon ready.”  
  
“Sounds good to me,” said Alona with a stretch. “Come on, Gen, walk with me.” At first Jensen was unsure if Alona was talking to him or to Genevieve, but that question was answered when he saw that Alona had stretched out her hand to Genevieve, who took it and they walked off together, fingers entwined.  
  
“Huh,” Jared said, echoing Jensen’s reaction.  
  
“Yeah,” Jensen said.  _Eloquent_ , he chided himself. Then again, Jared’s reaction hadn’t been the pillar of vernacular prowess either.  
  
There really wasn’t too much of interest to look at in the train yard. Jared seemed altogether more eager to investigate the train itself than to walk around. Jensen had seen more than enough, so he leaned back against the engine car and waited for their ride to be ready while Jared entertained himself trying to figure out the mechanics of the locomotive. Finally, the engineer called them over with a loud, “Hullo! You ready to go?”  
  
In a few minutes they were on their way into Southport proper, and Jensen let himself take in the sights. Southport was significantly warmer than Oracle Grove. Jensen didn’t know if the difference lay in the lack of trees filtering the sunlight in Southport or if they’d traveled far enough south for there to be a change in climate.  
  
Oh, there were some trees, set in the sidewalks and surrounded by little cages as if to prevent their escape back to the forest. With dryads being a reality and not a myth, perhaps that was the case. Jensen felt silly resenting the cages around the trees. These were not dryadic trees – he’d be able to sense that, wouldn’t he?  
  
“Alright, boys and girls, end of the line,” the engineer said. “About a half a mile down that road are the docks, and there’s quite a few inns around here if you need to find a place to stay.”  
  
“Thanks,” Jensen said as he climbed down from the wagon, the lute secured across his back.  
  
With that they said their good-byes and were on their way.  
  
“I suppose we should try to sing for our supper, yes?” Jensen asked his companions, motioning to the lute.  
  
“Good idea,” Jared said. “I’m hungry and we should probably try to save the food the Oracle devotees sent with us.”  
  
Nodding their assent, Jensen and the others meandered through the streets until they found a likely looking inn that had an empty stage set up in one corner. After some finagling and a demonstration of their skills, they arranged to play two shows a day – one during the lunch hour and one at dinner – in exchange for two rooms and one meal a day until they were able to secure passage to where they wanted to go.  
  
They also learned from the gruff, elderly innkeeper that finding a vessel to sail all the way down to the island of Seagrave, where Misha the Mapmaker lived, was nearly impossible.  
  
“Only one man’s crazy enough to sail to Seagrave this time of the year because of those blasted pirates that sail through the Devil’s Trench! To the depths with all them,” the old man cursed through his thick grey mustache. “The name you’re looking for is Jeffrey Dean Morgan, or Mad Cap’n Morgan although don’t call him that to his face if you’re going to be asking any favors from him.”  
  
“Ah, I see,” said Jared. Jensen was too busy thinking about what kind of a man earned a nickname like Mad Captain Morgan and wasn’t a pirate. He wasn’t a pirate, was he?  
  
“No, he isn’t a pirate!” the innkeeper laughed, surprising Jensen. He hadn’t thought he’d said that out loud. “He’s my nephew and he’ll be here probably in the next few days to drink my ale and eat my food and not pay me one blessed coin for it. He does like a jaunty tune and a beautiful woman, though, so you may be able to procure your passage on that.”  
  
Alona looked vaguely offended and Genevieve frowned.  
  
“I’m not going to sleep with the man just to get to a ride on his ship,” Alona said.  
  
“No, no, of course not,” the innkeeper said. “Never said you’d have to. He just likes to look, says he’d already got a woman of his own but he’s never brought her around here.”  
  
“Maybe he likes the boys?” Jared said, and once again the innkeeper just laughed.  
  
“I’m not denying I’ve wondered the same thing myself, but if he does then he likes both, for a lovely woman can sure enough turn his head even in the middle of an important talk. I’ve seen it happen enough, the rogue. In any case, I believe it’s time for your first performance.” He tossed Jensen a small woven basket. “You can keep any tips you make for spending money. You look like you’ve traveled light and rough. Maybe buy yourself some new clothes – those look like they’ve seen better days about thirty years ago.”

* * *

  
  
“It’s been three days,” Jensen said as he and Jared prepared for bed one evening. “I don’t like this. What if more Witherkin show up? You know the Oracle said they were drawn to us.”  
  
Jared shrugged as he slipped his nightshirt over his head, covering a body Jensen was getting more and more fond of ogling. Their tips had been profitable and Jensen had purchased two sets of clothing plus a long sleep shirt to wear to bed. Jared had done the same, although there was part of Jensen that missed Jared sleeping naked.  
  
“Not much we can do about it,” Jared said. “The Oracle said the further away from that forest we went the less likely they were to appear, so let’s just hope that we’re far enough away.”  
  
The dreams had ceased for the most part. The dragon was holding his or her memories close, or perhaps dragons didn’t have memories the way humans and dryads did. But that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? All creatures had some memories. They had to.  
  
“You disappear into your own head a lot, Jensen,” Jared said, and Jensen looked up from where he sat on the edge of his bed. Jared was standing very close – close enough to touch.  
  
“I know, I’m sorry,” Jensen apologized as Jared sat down next to him. The dip of the mattress had Jensen sliding incrementally closer to the other man.  
“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Jared said. “I think it’s a little endearing.”  
  
Jensen snorted.  _Endearing_.  
  
“Do you think this Mad Captain Morgan is ever going to show up?” Jared sighed.  
  
“Hopefully soon,” Jensen said. “I don’t like waiting. Apparently patience is a virtue I don’t have.”  
  
Jared laughed and leaned in towards Jensen, as if he were going to tell him a secret, so Jensen leaned forwards as well. Jared sighed.  
  
“How well do you know yourself now, Jensen?” Jared said softly, his voice gone a little husky. “Because I’d really, really like to kiss you again.”  
  
“I- I don’t,” Jensen said. “You know that I don’t.” It was true, but that didn’t explain why Jensen was the one closing the distance between them, drawing Jared closer with one hand on his neck pulling him near. The back of Jared’s neck was warm, Jensen noticed, and his hair was very soft where he tangled his fingers in it. Jared gave a little gasp of surprise but didn’t question it and simply let his lips meet Jensen’s as they moved against each other.  
  
Jared’s tongue gently swept across the seam of Jensen’s lips, asking for permission to go further, and Jensen opened his mouth to Jared, granting entrance. The kiss was a gentle exploration of each other, almost tentative, but Jared’s hand on Jensen’s thigh was not. Jared’s hand was like a brand, squeezing the muscle tight as if to keep his fingers from slipping up just the little bit further and taking Jensen in hand. Jensen felt himself responding to that idea, his most intimate part thickening with arousal which he tried in vain to fight against. They kissed like that for a few more moments, and then Jared reluctantly pulled away.  
  
Jensen, his eyes still closed, tried to follow Jared, but Jared lifted his index finger and traced Jensen’s spit-slick lips.  
  
“Goodnight, Jensen,” he said. “From now on I’m kissing you goodnight every night.  
  
“You are?,” Jensen said, a little embarrassed at how breathy his voice sounded.  
  
“Yes, I am,” Jared said.  
  
“Oh, alright,” Jensen said, still feeling a bit dazed.  
  
Jared laughed, and kissed him again before standing up, blowing out the candle, and going to his own bed.

* * *

  
  
The next day they finally met the captain. He came in during their noon performance and it was only due to the innkeeper’s very accurate description of his nephew that Jensen realized who the very enthusiastic audience member was. He’d left his table and motioned for several of his companions, crew members most likely, to come up right next to the stage as if they couldn’t hear the music from their tables. It made Jensen smile while he belted out the lyrics, joined in harmony by Genevieve who actually had a surprisingly sweet voice. The captain clapped his hands in time with the music, hollering out the lyrics when they sang something he knew and occasionally grabbing a waitress and forcing her to dance with him. It would have been obnoxious if it weren’t for the fact that everyone could tell he meant nothing malicious by it. The man was simply having a good time and apparently really liked the music.  
  
Looking at the man, taking in the scruff on his face and his clothing choices, Jensen decided the man looked more like a pirate from a hundred years ago than a respectable ship’s captain. Perhaps that was part of the reason he’d earned his moniker. Jensen’s fingers faltered slightly on the strings of the lute, earning him an amused glance from Jared, who was beating out a rhythm on a makeshift drum in time with the music.  
  
Sometimes Jensen wondered which of them really knew all of this music that they played. Whoever it was knew a lot of different songs, from sad songs that could nearly bring their audience to tears to lively songs that could inspire the patrons, like Captain Morgan here, to get up and dance a jig.  
  
It never ceased to amuse Jensen, and he hoped he wouldn’t lose the songs once he got his memories back.  
  
After two more songs to complete their set, the innkeeper stumbled up on the stage – the second step up tripped everyone,  _every time_  –and told them that Jeffrey Dean Morgan would like to speak with them at his table.  
  
Genevieve looked nervous. She kept wiping her hands on her dress even though Jensen knew there was no way she was sweating that much. Alona looked eager, and grabbed Jared’s hand, leading him off stage towards Captain Jeffrey’s table.  
  
“Excellent show!” the captain called as they wove their way through the other tables arranged in the dining area. He waited for them to seat themselves before offering them bread rolls from the basket on the table. Jensen and the others declined the food; they would be eating later and right now all of them just wanted to talk business.  
  
“My uncle tells me you are seeking passage down to Seagrave. You do know those are dangerous waters this time of year, right?” Jeffrey leaned forward, his eyes twinkling despite the warning he was giving to the travelers. “Not only are there pirates in the strait this time of year, but it’s the summer storm season in the trench. Then there’s always the sea dragon, who is notorious for sinking ships that venture too far into its territory.”  
  
“A sea dragon,” Jared echoed. It wasn’t a question so much as a statement. “Is there really a sea dragon?”  
  
“That’s what they say,” Jeffrey said, a grin stretching wide across his face. He leaned forward and stroked his salt and pepper beard. “I’d say I’d never seen it myself, but sometimes you do see things through the storms, out there in the water. You might say your eyes are playing tricks on you, but you never really know.”  
  
Alona blinked at him and pushed her hair back from her face. “As fun as this is to talk about how dangerous the trip is and how there may or may not be mythical sea dragons in the water, we really need to get to Seagrave. You seemed to really enjoy our show. Would you be willing to grant us passage on your ship if we entertained the crew?”  
  
The captain straightened in his chair and laughed, long and hard. “You’re a regular spitfire, you are,” he said to Alona. “But that’s an awfully cheap ticket, if you ask me. I do have a few rooms below deck that I use to sometimes transport passengers, but mostly I’m a merchant ship. I don’t suppose any of you know anything about sailing?”  
  
Jensen glanced at his companions, and shook his head. No, they didn’t know anything about sailing, so offering to be part of his crew was definitely not an option.  
  
“Tell you what,” Jeffrey said. “I know my uncle is generous and lets you keep your tips. I set sail for Seagrave in two days – be there with all of your tips between now and then and we’ll call it a deal – along, of course with you entertaining my crew.”  
  
His gaze fell on Genevieve and his grin took on a wolfish quality.  
  
“Music only,” she said, scooting her chair back an inch or two, causing it to reverberate loudly against the wooden floor.  
  
“But of course,” Jeffrey said. “Music only.”

* * *

  
  
“Ugh, I am  _never_ going to get my sea legs,” Genevieve said as they set out from Azimuth, the largest island between Mainsail and Seagrave and one of the few stops the captain had to make. They only stayed in port in Azimuth for a day, so none of the four felt the need to go exploring the island and stayed on the ship.  
  
Despite Genevieve’s complaints, her favorite place to be was leaning up against the rail, watching the water as they sailed onwards. Jensen gave her a smile.  
  
“Well you know, that green shade is quite fetching on you,” he teased, earning a playful slap to the shoulder.  
  
“I think anything would look fetching on Genevieve,” said Jeffrey, joining them against the railing. Genevieve looked down at the water, a slight blush staining her cheeks. “How are you all enjoying the voyage?”  
  
“I think it’s going well,” Jensen said, “maybe not as well for Genevieve.”  
  
“You’ll get your sea legs yet,” Jeffrey laughed. “You’ll see.”  
  
“Oh, I hope so,” Genevieve said with a sigh. “I can’t wait until we get to Seagrave.”  
  
“Just a few more days, my dear,” the captain said. “Assuming we have good weather. We’re sailing into the strait now.”  
  
“Isn’t the Strait of Pellegrino the same thing as the Devil’s Trench?” Jensen asked and Jeffrey nodded.  
  
“The exact same,” he confirmed.  
  
“Why did they give it such an awful nickname?” Genevieve wanted to know. She looked a little pale under the green.  
  
“I think it’s because of the number of ships that have sank in the strait,” Jeffrey said. “But don’t worry, I know how to navigate the strait. We’re old friends, we go way back.”  
  
“It’s the sea dragon,” said Jared, appearing beside Jensen. “I was talking to the crew about the sea dragon legends, and they say the sea dragon dragged all those ships to the bottom of the trench. They say those shipwrecks have never been found and that the crew members never washed ashore. Do you think the sea dragon ate them?” Jared’s hand rested on the small of Jensen’s back almost possessively. Perhaps it was.  
  
If possible, Genevieve went even paler. “Does the sea dragon exist? I mean, it could, right? Considering one of us is a—“  
  
Jensen shot Genevieve a glare to shut her up, and it worked. They hadn’t told the captain why they needed to get to Seagrave, only that it was very important. They’d agreed that they would tell only people who it was necessary to tell about their quest. The last thing they needed was someone thinking they were crazy and locking them up in an asylum.  
  
“Captain, there’s bad weather on the horizon,” said one of the crew members, coming up behind Jeffrey and tapping him on the shoulder. “You might want to take a look at this.”  
  
“Thanks,” said Jeffrey. “I’ll come take a look. You four might want to head below deck to your rooms. Looks like there might be a storm rolling in.”  
  
Nodding, Genevieve went off to find Alona. Jensen and Jared retreated to their room. Below deck the increased sway of the ship in the choppy water was much more apparent, and Jensen stumbled into Jared as they walked toward their beds. Jared caught him and helped him right himself, which Jensen acknowledged with a laughing, “Thank you.”  
  
“Any excuse to put my hands on you,” Jared teased gently, sitting on the rag-filled mattress that served as guest bedding on the ship.  
  
“You’re such a flirt, Jared,” Jensen said, flopping down onto his own mattress and sprawling as much as the small bed would allow him to. “Why?”  
  
“Why not?” Jared responded quickly.  
  
“Probably because you’ve got nothing better to do,” Jensen said as the ship hit a particularly rough patch of water. He grabbed the sides of his mattress with both hands.  
  
Suddenly Jared abandoned his own mattress to join Jensen on his, which was ridiculous when it was barely big enough for Jensen by himself. Jared pressed himself close, crowding Jensen against the wall of the room. Jared looked genuinely upset.  
  
“Is that really what you think? You think I flirt with you and kiss you goodnight every night because I’ve nothing better to do?” Jared’s mouth narrowed into a thin line as he waited for Jensen’s response.  
  
“I don’t know, Jared,” Jensen said, shifting on the mattress. “This is rather uncomfortable.”  
  
“Yeah it is, “ Jared agreed. “Look, Jensen, I don’t know how to explain it but ever since I saw you in that forest – I just – I just like you, alright? Is that so bad? And everything I’ve learned about you since then has only made me like you more.”  
  
“Jared, what if-“Jensen didn’t finish that sentence. There were so many what ifs.  
  
“Then we’ll deal with it,” Jared said. “Whatever comes from it, whatever we find out when we reach the Pool of Restoration – we’ll figure it out. But for now, I’d really just like to kiss you.”  
  
The nearness of Jared was waging war on Jensen’s senses. “Alright,” he agreed.  
  
“Alright?” Jared looked skeptical, as if he hadn’t heard right.  
  
“Alright,” Jensen confirmed and in the next moment Jared’s lips were on his, Jared’s tongue demanding entrance into Jensen’s mouth. Jensen gasped against the onslaught. This was Jared nearly desperate and not holding back, and Jensen wanted more. He’d held off long enough and rolled so that he was slotted against Jared, front to front instead of front to side. He ran his hand down Jared’s side and let it trail across his hips to grab a firm handful of Jared’s ass and tug him even closer, if that was possible. Jensen could feel the hard length of Jared’s arousal pressing against him and he pulled himself the inch or so up Jared’s body so that it lined up with his own. They sighed into each other’s mouths at that, at the friction between them, and in unspoken agreement they pressed their hips together, thrust and retreat. A steady crescendo built between them as they joined themselves at the mouth, tongues and teeth and  _not enough_.  
  
A sudden lurch of the ship caused them to roll off of the bed and onto the hard wooden floor. Elbows and knees colliding with the floor and with each other quickly wilted any arousal Jensen was feeling.  
  
“All hands on deck! All hands on deck!”  
  
Outside their door the call repeated, growing louder and then fainter as whoever was shouting it moved around below deck.  
  
“Do you think that means us?” Jared wanted to know.  
  
“Doubt it,” said Jensen with a grimace as he rubbed his elbow, “but maybe we should go up there just to make sure.”  
  
The ship was rocking violently now as Jared and Jensen made their way to the deck. Alona and Genevieve were already there, looking scared. It was very dark out now, even with it being late afternoon, and the sky was roiling with green-tinged storm clouds that swirled menacingly, seeming to circle the vessel they were on. That was strange. Could clouds do that? They seemed to move almost with purpose. In the distance, Jensen saw bolts of lightning that illuminated the sky in purples, blues and reds. He was sure they were about to die.  
  
The rain was coming down fiercely, everyone on board was completely soaked in a matter of seconds and despite the storm Jensen took a moment to appreciate Jared’s form in his wet and clinging shirt. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. This was not the place or time, even if it almost had been.  
  
“What are you doing up on deck?” Jensen heard the captain shout at them over the pelting rain. “You’re just going to get in the way! Go back to your rooms!”  
  
Just then the ship started to turn – not a gentle turn as if the captain were guiding her through the storm, but rather a sharp, deliberate spin that felt very much like the ship had gotten caught in a whirlpool.  
  
“Samantha!” Jensen heard the captain shout.  
  
 _Wait, what? Samantha?_  Well that didn’t make any sense.  
  
“Samantha, stop this! What in the depths are you doing?” Jeffrey continued to yell at, well, the storm, apparently, because there were no women in his crew.  
  
“Do you think he’s lost his mind?” Genevieve cried. She’d wrapped her arms around Jared’s midsection to anchor herself, which wasn’t a half-bad idea. Alona must have thought so as well, since she was wrapped around Jared from the other side. Jensen was a little jealous that there wasn’t room for him. Jensen shrugged and shook his head. He supposed it was plausible. They did call him  _Mad_ Captain Morgan after all.  
  
“No!” Jensen said, spying something in the water through the rain.  _Impossible_. It wasn’t waves that he saw but rather coils – long coils like a giant snake swimming in the water.  
  
The ship seemed to stabilize, not rocking back and forth so much anymore but still slowly spinning in the current. Around them the storm raged on, circling the spinning ship, but they were in the eye of the storm. Weren’t they?  
  
The captain ran to the edge of the ship, leaning over the rails and still calling for Samantha, whoever she was. Suddenly, out of the water a head appeared, giant and green-scaled, with a long snout and mouthful of razor-sharp teeth.  
  
Jensen heard the women gasp, and probably he did as well as they all realized that the sea-dragon was real. Not only that, but they were probably all about to die. The Oracle’s words suddenly rang clear in Jensen’s mind.  
  
 _Two of you will not complete the quest._  
  
Maybe this was it. Maybe this was why.  
  
“Samantha, come down here and talk to me rationally,” Jeffrey demanded of the dragon. The creature reared back and glared at the captain with baleful eyes and snapped its teeth together menacingly, but it did not attack.  
  
“You owe me that much! You just tried to tear my ship apart!” Jeffrey shouted. The dragon narrowed its eyes further, but then its form began to shimmer and shrink, and in the next moment a woman stepped onto the deck of the ship. She walked up to Jeffrey, grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and hauled him down to face level, where she proceeded to slant her mouth against his, kissing him aggressively. Jeffrey seemed surprised at first but then went with it, kissing the dragon and putting on a display that made Jensen a little uncomfortable.  
  
“Jeffrey Dean Morgan, you philandering whore of a man, how  _dare_ you demand  _anything_ of me.” The dragon, no—woman, sounded surprisingly calm. She was also completely dry, her soft brown hair flowing in waves to her shoulders. She was of a similar age as the captain, neither old nor young, and her eyes lit on the four travelers.  
  
“Samantha, please, what is going on here?” Jeffrey followed the woman as she strode closer to Jensen and his companions.  
  
“You’ve brought another dragon into my territory! Which one is she?”  
  
When Jeffrey didn’t answer the woman, Samantha stepped in close to each of them, inhaling their scent and then looking confused.  
  
“You – each of you seems to be dragon, and yet not,” she said. “How is that possible?” She turned to the captain. “What is going on here?”  
  
Now it was Jeffrey who was glaring at the travelers. “That is what I would like to know as well,” he said. “Apparently _someone_ forgot to disclose something very important to me before I agreed to grant passage on my ship.”  
  
“You didn’t know?” Samantha’s voice softened and now she turned to face Jeffrey.  
  
“No, I didn’t,” the captain said, his eyes fixed on Jensen, his expression steely. “Are you dragons? Any of you?”  
  
“Well, not exactly,” Jared said. “It’s a long story.”  
  
Captain Jeffrey came up behind Samantha and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her body close to his. “Come on, darlin’, I’d never knowingly bring another dragon into your territory. I’d never cheat on you either. You should know that.”  
  
Samantha relaxed back into the embrace of the captain but still eyed the four travelers warily.  
  
“Alright, I believe you,” she said. “And I want to hear this long story of yours, but first, I believe my captain and I have some catching up to do – in his cabin. Jeffrey, come.” Jensen watched in amazement as the storm around the ship dissipated in an instant, the rain from the clouds falling back into the ocean in one loud crash of water . Samantha led Jeffrey towards the captain’s chambers and soon enough they were gone, leaving a flustered Jensen and his companions standing on the deck, receiving strange, somewhat hostile, looks from the crew.  
  
Jensen, Jared, Alona and Genevieve all retreated to their rooms.


	10. Chapter 10

 

  
  
_I was born in the rocky, wild northlands of the Mainland. Perhaps born is the incorrect term, for like all dragons, I came from an egg. I don’t remember scratching and chipping my way out of my egg but my mother did, and liked to tell me and anyone who would listen how I emerged tail end first._   
  
_Sentimental dragoness that she was, she kept a piece of my baby shell, had it polished, shaped, and set into a necklace that she could wear in her human form._   
  
_Childhood, for me, was idyllic. I was raised far away from humans. I remember fire-breathing contests and flying contests and just about any other competition a young dragon could come up with to prove ourselves better than our littermates._   
  
_I had no littermates, but I did not lack companionship. Despite being my aging mother’s last egg, there were plenty of other baby dragons to keep my company, and my mother doted on me. She lived long enough to see me assume human shape for the first time upon reaching adulthood, but passed away not long after._   
  
_This is the great secret we dragons have. We have two forms – our natural, winged, superior form and the smaller, two-legged, inferior human shape._   
  
_What would the humans do if they learned these secrets? Would they be even more frightened of us? The humans equate us with beasts, perhaps a little smarter than cattle since we are predators, but beasts nonetheless._   
  
_This is a lie, yet it is a lie we perpetuate in order to protect ourselves. Though we are bigger, stronger and mightier than the humans they outnumber us. We may win a battle, but ultimately they would win the war._   
  
_Imagine how much many of them would want us dead if they knew we were not simply beasts._   
  
_Murmurings came when I was still a youngling of a pack of rogue dragons that had decided to eliminate the human menace once and for all, starting with the magic users. The town of Veridia was full of them, living peacefully and never expecting the attack._   
  
_We were outraged. The dragon council condemned the actions of the outcasts and declared them exiles. They took away their ability to shift and thus took away their best way to hide amongst the humans._   
  
_We knew revenge would come quickly, and it did._   
  
_A survivor of Veridia formed an army and declared war on all of the dragons, and due to our code we were unable to defend ourselves properly. We were all beasts in the army’s eyes. The council elders declared it would be safer if we remained that way. We were not allowed to rally – to do anything that would indicate we were sentient creatures capable of thought patterns beyond common animals._   
  
_And so the slaughter began. We sent the young ones into hiding, sending them away on ships to islands past the Archipelago, into countries and continents foreign and strange._   
  
_A few were chosen to stay, as bait for the army. I volunteered to stay. I was young, unmated and had no family of my own. I flew, in dragon form, to the Archipelago where I set up my trap._   
  
_In human form, we spread rumors: that the dragons’ numbers were dwindling fast, that I was the last -- the one lone dragon making a desperate bid for escape._   
  
_I knew I would most likely die, but I had the advantage of magic on my side and the blessing of the council to use all magic at my disposal to rid the world of this army._   
_Even though another would probably come._   
  
_In Sheppardston I lay waste the countryside in true dragon fashion – at least as far as the humans knew. I waited for the army to come and feigned exhaustion._   
_And then I fought._   
  
_I fought to save dragonkind, the younglings and the elders, our way of life._   
  
_Oh, how I fought._   
  
_The clash of magics that night was like nothing I had ever seen, and hope to never see again._   
  
_Did I win?_   
  
_I still don’t know. Sure, the army is gone and the wizard incapacitated. But what became of me? Where have I gone? I am a dragon spread amongst four human bodies._   
  
_I long to be whole. I long for the skies and wind, of being aloft in the clouds, to stretch my wings and take flight._   
  
_I should hate the humans. I do hate the humans._   
  
_No, that is a lie._   
  
_I do not know what the truth is anymore._


	11. Chapter 11

  
  
When the island of Seagrave first appeared on the horizon, Jensen mistook it for one of the small uninhabited islands scattered between Azimuth and Seagrave known collectively as The Pebbles. It was the captain who pointed out that the small, mountainous island on the horizon was indeed their destination, and soon enough afterwards they made port and bid goodbye to Jeffrey. He let them know that he was heading out in three days again; heading back to Mainsail and that if they needed passage back they were more than welcome to come along.  
  
“We probably won’t even be attacked by sea dragons next time,” Jeffrey joked, earning a laugh from his passengers. They thanked him and headed on their way to find Misha. Jeffrey had heard of the inventor but didn’t know where he lived.  
  
As luck would have it, Misha Collins was well known on the island of Seagrave and lived about five miles inland. Despite being a known eccentric the residents spoke fondly of him and showed them one of his most popular inventions – a two wheeled, manually powered vehicle they called a bicycle. They were everywhere, Jensen noticed. They looked like fun. Genevieve said that she wanted one for herself once their quest was over, and Jensen rather agreed with her.  
  
Alona found a small business that rented bicycles by the day, but sadly none of them were proficient at riding them. The proprietor had gotten a good laugh watching them try to ride the bicycles, especially at Jared with his long legs. Alona seemed to take it as a personal affront, and Genevieve was the most coordinated out of all of them. Jensen somehow ended up on the ground with the bicycle on top of him and the proprietor chuckling good-naturedly while at the same time telling him that if Jensen broke it he’d have to buy it.  
  
In the end they decided just to walk the five miles to Misha’s place, since apparently he lived and worked at the same location. They thanked the bicycle shop owner for his time and headed off.  
It was a little past noon when they reached the property belonging to Misha Collins. Set back from the road a ways was a cozy looking house with a few outbuildings here and there. Behind the house was a larger building that looked like a barn but was probably his workshop; there was smoke rising from the chimney despite the warmth of the day.  
  
“Is this it?” Jared asked. Jensen unfolded the small piece of paper that one of the townspeople had kindly written down the address on.  
  
“Looks like it,” Jensen replied. “Looks like he’s home too. Let’s get this over with.”  
  
“I hope he’ll make the map for us,” Alona said. “I know the Oracle said he could, but she didn’t say he would. I have a few coins left from our tips in Southport but they’re probably not enough to pay for a map.”  
  
Genevieve bit her lip and looked worried, but didn’t respond. Together they walked up the pathway to the house, each of them lost in their own thoughts. It was Jared who knocked. He knocked on the door exactly three times. They all waited, but no answer was forthcoming. Jared knocked again.  
  
“Are we sure this is the right place?” Genevieve asked. Jensen frowned at her and showed her the piece of paper with the address on it.  
  
“I don’t know, Genevieve,” he said with a touch of sarcasm. “Did I read it correctly?” Genevieve looked hurt and Jensen felt a pang of guilt, but before he could apologize a voice could be heard behind the door, slightly muffled as if buried in books or boxes.  
  
“Hold on! I’m coming!” After a few moments the door was opened and they were looked at appraisingly by a man with dark eyes and darker hair. “Who the depths are you?”  
  
“Hi, are you Misha Collins?” Jensen started but the man held up a hand for silence, and Jensen stuttered to a stop.  
  
“Hold on, I’m not Misha. I’m Osric, his assistant. Misha is in the workshop. Do you need something from him?”  
  
“Ah, well, yes,” Jared tried and the man looked up at him with one eyebrow raised.  
  
“What do you need? Do you have an appointment?”  
  
“We need a map,” said Alona, sounding more confident than Jared had. “We were told he could make one for us.”  
  
Osric scoffed. “Misha’s not a mapmaker. He’s an inventor – and a brilliant one at that. What do you really want?”  
  
“No, really, we were told by the Oracle that he could make a map for us,” Jensen answered.  
  
“Oracle? You expect me to believe that?”  
  
From behind Osric another man appeared, this one taller and dressed in casual clothing with a sort of apron around his waist that had at least ten pockets on it, all of them filled with tools or metal bits and who knew what else. He held a screwdriver in one hand. His dark hair was mussed, as if it hadn’t been brushed yet for the day, but he had a pleasant face especially when he smiled at his visitors.  
“Hello there! Did I forget an appointment? I’m sorry, Osric likes to give my guests a hard time since they’re usually trying to get something for nothing – you know how it goes. Osric, go make tea or something. Hi, I’m Misha Collins and that’s my assistant, Osric. He can get feisty sometimes, but it makes things around here a bit more interesting. Also he makes sure I don’t burn anything down. What can I do for you?”  
  
After Misha rattled off that little speech, and Osric rolled his eyes and disappeared into another room with a long-suffering sigh, Jensen and the others shook Misha’s hand and introduced themselves.  
  
“Sorry we don’t have an appointment,” Jensen said apologetically. “We didn’t know we had to make one. We just arrived here from Mainsail and we’re on a quest.”  
  
Jared’s eyes widened just a little at this divulgence of information but he didn’t say anything.  
  
“No appointment?” Misha asked. “Well that’s alright. I don’t think I have any appointments today anyway. In fact, you all just arrived in time for lunch. I’m having sandwiches and you’re welcome to join me. A quest you say? I didn’t know people went on quests anymore. I thought that was part of a bygone age. You know, knights and castles and fantasy books.” Misha’s eyes went distant. “There’s less and less magic users since Veridia met its sad fate. Even the dragons are nearing extinction. It’s going to be a sad, boring world to live in soon.”  
  
Jensen bit his lower lip, unsure of what to say. Alona purposefully caught Jensen’s gaze and held it, lifting her eyebrows as if silently asking if he thought Misha was as crazy as she thought he was. Jensen responded with a small, nearly imperceptible shrug. It was Jared who piped up.  
  
“Sandwiches sound great and we’d love to join you. We can tell you all about our quest and maybe you can help us.”  
  
Misha rubbed his hands together and grinned. “Follow me then, we have sandwiches to conquer.”

* * *

  
  
“So, here’s the thing, Osric will  _kill_ me if I do this for you without payment. Do you have anything that you could trade?” Misha sat at his kitchen table, his eyes downcast as he scooted bread crumbs around with his thumb. The words were rather jumbled together and hard to understand since they were said around his last bite of food.  
  
“For an assistant,” Alona said, “he seems awfully presumptuous.”  
  
“Well, you know what the first three letters of assistant spell, right?” Misha replied, lifting his head and smirking.  
  
“Hey I heard that!” Osric called from the next room. Peeking around the doorframe, Osric glared at Misha while he used one hand to push his hair out of his eyes. “You think you’re funny, Misha. You’re not that funny.” He smiled. “Keep it up and I’ll put a nice surprise for you in your tea next time.”  
  
Misha blinked. “Osric, you do not mess with a man’s tea. I will have you dismissed.”  
  
“You always say that,” Osric laughed before disappearing. His voice trailed behind him. “You need me though!”  
  
Misha laughed, bringing his hand up to his mouth and checking for stray breadcrumbs. “He’s right, I threaten to fire him at least twice a day. But enough about Osric. You need a map. Come with me to my workshop; I have just the thing. I’m sure we can come up with some form of trade. I noticed that you, Jensen, are carrying around an instrument. Do you sing?”  
  
“Passably,” Jensen shrugged. “We managed to live off our tips in Southport, so I won’t make your ears bleed.”  
  
“Shut up Jensen,” Jared said. “He’s actually a great singer. He’s probably the only reason we earned  _any_ coin in Southport. Well, that and the girls dancing.”  
  
Alona turned a glare on Jared. “So it was us shaking our asses that got the money, right, and not our singing? Who did backup vocals? Wasn’t just you, Jared.”  
  
Jared made a moue with his mouth and looked down at the table, abashed. Misha’s gaze darted back and forth between Alona and Jared, and the look on his face showed that he expected a fight to break out at any moment.  
  
“Guys, calm down,” Genevieve said, laying a hand on Alona’s. “It’s alright. I’m sure we did get tips for both reasons. Alona is very pretty.”  
  
Amazingly, Alona blushed and looked away. Jensen smiled.  
  
“Alright, it’s been established that you play,” Misha said. “That’s perfect, actually. You can play for me, and that will be your payment.”  
  
Osric’s face appeared in the door again. “You’re exchanging services for a song? Are you crazy, old man?”  
  
“I’m not old!” Misha exclaimed in dismay. “And no, it’s not just a song. You are not as smart as you think you are, young man. I want to make a recording of them and you’ve proven time and again that you can’t sing. I’m surprised you didn’t break my wax cylinders with as much of a strain as you put on them. I want to record something pleasant for when I present my newest invention.”  
  
Jensen watched the exchange between the two men, confused as to what it was that Misha wanted exactly, but whatever it was, Misha must have won because Osric waved a hand and walked away.  
  
“Is he always that cranky?” Genevieve asked. Misha shook his head.  
  
“No, he’s just mad at me right now because I built a custom bicycle for his mother and didn’t give her the discount she wanted for Osric being my assistant.” Misha raised his voice, practically shouting his words as if to make sure Osric heard him clearly. “I should have charged her  _more_ for Osric being my assistant, especially with the attitude he has today!” Misha’s volume descended back to its usual level. “Come on, then. Let’s get going. I imagine you’ll want to be back in town by the time the sun goes down.”  
  
“Yes,” said Jared, although truthfully they hadn’t thought that far ahead. They probably should have procured lodging before heading out to Misha’s. Jensen hoped they’d be able to find a room – the town was pretty small and with Jeffrey and his crew in port finding available rooms could prove difficult. Jensen shrugged it off. It was too late to worry about now. Worst case scenario, he figured, they could find a place outdoors to catch some sleep.  
  
 _Wouldn’t be the first time_ , a voice in his head said and he realized that at least for one of them, that was true. It was definitely a memory, though whether it belonged to dragon, dryad, soldier or wizard he couldn’t be sure. The memory of cold, hard paving stones under him as he wrapped up in his coat and used the side of a brick building as a pillow was clear, regardless of the original source.  
  
They followed Misha out of his house and toward his workshop, which was indeed the building with the smoking chimney. As they walked, it wasn’t the workshop that arrested Jensen’s attention.  
  
It was held aloft by wooden scaffolding, and shaped very much like a smaller version of Jeffrey’s merchant ship minus the sails. The body was a creation of metal and wood, elegantly crafted and gleaming in the sunlight. The most curious thing that caught Jensen’s eye was the set of giant metal wings attached to the sides of the craft. These bat-like wings stretched out at least fifteen feet from the craft, if not further.  
  
Entranced, Jensen started wandering toward the ship. As he walked closer he could see that only the bones of the wings were made of metal. Stretched between the metal bones was a patchwork of leather; nearly transparent despite the thickness , it was beautiful and almost looked like stained glass.  
  
“What in the depths is that thing?” Jensen breathed, almost afraid of the answer. He took another step toward it.  
  
“That, my friend, is my magnum opus – my great flying machine,” Misha said, suddenly directly behind Jensen. “Isn’t it a thing of beauty?”  
  
“It’s something alright,” said Jared, squinting at it. “It’ll never get off the ground. It’s too heavy. Even if you rolled it over a cliff, it’d just fly straight down.”  
  
Alona snickered and tried to hide it as a sneeze. No one was fooled and Misha shot her a small frown.  
  
“Sacrilege!” Misha shouted, jogging over to the flying machine and petting the wing fondly. “This thing is only missing one final, magical ingredient to get her to fly.”  
  
“What are these wings made of?” Genevieve asked. She looked pensive as she trailed her finger over a seam in the leather. “No animal I know of has skin like this.”  
  
“This is dragon-wing leather,” Misha said. “You wouldn’t believe how expensive it was.”  
  
 _Dragon wings. Dragon. Wings_. Jensen couldn’t breathe. One of them was a dragon. He could very well be a dragon. Anger coursed through his veins and he wondered if this came from the dragons the wizard had stalked and killed.  
  
 _Then again, I might be that wizard. I might have killed these drago_ ns.  
  
Jensen felt dizzy. Genevieve had snatched her hand away from the leather as if it had burned her and was now cradling her hand. Alona looked like she was going to be sick and Jared – well, Jared looked like his blood was about to boil.  
  
“ _Dragon Wing Leather_?” Jared repeated the words, each one dripping with venom. “I’m going to burn it. This is an obscenity.” Jensen was watching Jared’s face now, and when Jared breathed out Jensen was almost sure he saw a little puff of smoke. He immediately thought back to that night in Oracle Grove, when Jared had wondered if he could breathe fire.  
  
 _Looks like we might find out_ , Jensen thought.  
  
“Wait, wait!” Misha exclaimed, taking in the murderous expression on Jared’s face as well as the looks the others were giving him. “This leather is all naturally harvested. I didn’t kill any dragons! I promise!”  
  
“What does that mean?” Jensen snapped, surprised at the anger in his own voice.  
  
“Dragons die sometimes,” Misha said defiantly. “They’re like elephants – they have graveyards. This leather was all harvested from dragons that died of old age.”  
  
“I still don’t like it,” Jared said. “Those graveyards are sacred to the dragons. If they knew humans were traipsing in – if they knew humans even knew where they were – they’d-“  
  
“Jared,” Jensen said firmly, stopping Jared before he gave away too much information. The muscles next to Jared’s mouth twitched angrily, but he silenced himself. Misha looked confused.  
  
“Do you study dragons?” he asked. “You seem very, ah, passionate about the subject.”  
  
“I’ll show you passionate,” Jared muttered, which despite the tension in the air brought completely inappropriate images to Jensen ‘s mind. That Jared was a passionate man Jensen had no doubt. Their intimacy on the ship had confirmed that. Sadly, that hadn’t happened again. Jensen felt the tips of his ears heat up and he knew he was blushing. Just at that moment Jared turned to look at him, and the corner of his mouth twitched up into a self-satisfied smirk.  
  
Jared winked at Jensen, which only caused his flush to deepen. Jensen cleared his throat. “No,” he said to Misha. “Jared’s kind of a dragon enthusiast. Nothing official, but you know how some people are.”  
  
“Yes, quite,” said Misha. “Well, come on, you have a map you need and a song to perform for me.” With that Misha began leading them back to his workshop. Jensen cast one more glance over his shoulder at the flying machine, wondering what the missing ingredient was. Jared walked merely a step behind Jensen, close enough so that when Jared leaned forward he could feel Jared’s warm breath on his neck.  
  
“How are some people, Jensen?” Jared asked, his voice low enough to vibrate Jensen’s bones. “Will you show me later?”  
  
Jensen shivered as even more erotic thoughts pressed into his mind.  
  
“Would you behave?” he whispered over his shoulder as they entered the workshop.  
  
It was very hot inside from the stove that sat in the corner. On top of the stove were three metal tea kettles, each one with a steady issue of steam coming from their spouts.  
  
“Alright, so you need a map, but first I need you to sing.” They watched as Misha set up a strange looking device with a grooved wax cylinder. “Okay, are you ready?”  
  
Jensen quickly and awkwardly pulled the lute off of his back and turned to his friends. “Which one do you want to do?”  
  
“How about  _Everlasting Rose of Mainsail_?” Genevieve suggested. Jensen wrinkled his nose.  
  
“That’s such a sad song,” said Jensen. “Can’t we sing something, I don’t know, happier?”  
  
“Yeah,” said Jared. “Let’s do  _Southport Jig_.”  
  
“Seconding that,” Alona said. Genevieve sighed. “But Misha said he was going to record us – on that wax cylinder, right? Shouldn’t we do something a little classier than the  _Southport Jig_?”  
  
“I like  _Southport Jig_ ,” Misha said. “But yes, Genevieve is correct. This device records you and I can play it back. I think it’s going to be a rather big deal, and it works by hand crank, no alternative source of power required.”  
  
“Huh,” said Jared, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. Jensen thought that Jared would make a better assistant for Misha than Osric. Jared seemed to have an innate curiosity for how things worked. Jensen could almost see Jared’s fingers itching to touch the device.  
  
“Alright, ready?” Misha asked. Jensen nodded, and then counted to three, starting the up-tempo melody. Jared started clapping in time to the music and all four started to sing. A grin broke across Misha’s face and before too long he was clapping along and stomping his feet. When they finished he applauded wildly before stopping the device.  
  
“Now, let me show you how this works,” Misha said, resetting the machine and winding the crank back to maximum. To Jensen’s astonishment, he could hear his own voice and instrument playing back at him.  
  
“Amazing!” Alona said, staring at the invention with wide eyes.  
  
“Yes, if I do say so myself,” Misha said proudly. “Now then, I owe you fine travelers a map. What do you need a map of? Mainsail? The Mainland?”  
  
“Ah, actually, we need a mad to guide us to the Pool of Restoration,” Jensen said. “Can you make a map for that?”  
  
“Certainly, if it does in fact exist,” Misha said. “Come over here to my table and grab me a sheet of parchment from that box.”  
  
Jensen did as he was told and Misha took the parchment from him, smoothing it out over the table before taking out a worn cardboard box from under said table. He place the box on the parchment and opened it, removing what appeared to be a fist-sized brown glass egg with some sort of lens set into the bottom.  
  
“Alright, one of you needs to hold this and picture clearly in your head what you need to find. Then, when you’ve done that the egg will make your map for you. “  
  
“Which of us has the clearest mind, do you think?” Jared asked. “It’s not me.”  
  
“Me either,” said Alona. “Jensen?”  
  
“Oh, I doubt it. Let’s have Genevieve do it.”  
  
“Me?” Genevieve squeaked. “Are you sure?”  
  
“Yes,” Jared said, and Misha set the egg in Genevieve’s cupped hands. Her brow furrowed a little as she looked at it, but she closed her eyes and started concentrating on what it was they needed to find.  
In the next moment the egg started to vibrate, emitting a little buzzing sound. A small flap lifted off of the top and what looked like a small metal antenna emerged. It wasn’t an antenna though, for once it reached its full height of about two inches, little metal blades appeared at the top and began to spin. They spun until the egg lifted off of Genevieve’s hand and started to hover over the paper. Suddenly a stream of bright light shot out from the lens on the bottom of the egg and began scorching the paper. Not enough to burn it – when Jensen looked closer he could see what the egg was doing. It was etching the map.  
  
It started with the Island of Seagrave, and then expanded to show the sea around it. It filled in the Pebbles and Azimuth, and then it started in on Mainsail, from the south, etching in Oracle Grove, up past Sheppardston and beyond, going north and north and north, until it reached the northernmost part of the island, where it stopped and drew an “X” where the pool was.  
  
Wraithwood. The path to the pool ran directly through Wraithwood, and there would be no way to circumnavigate it. The egg, finished with its task, settled on the paper, tucking its little propeller away. Misha picked up the egg, kissed it, and put it back in its box. Then he leaned over and studied the map.  
  
"You're going to have to go through Wraithwood." His eyes were sad, darting from Genevieve to Jared to Alona and finally, to Jensen. His eyes looked at each person like they were their own tombstones, like they were already dead.  
  
 _Wraithwood._  
  
The word sat on the edges of Jensen's memory, a word, a feeling, a niggling itch - more like a memory of a memory. He heard Genevieve's sharp intake of breath and glanced over at her. Her eyes were wide and she pressed a hand over her heart, as if the name of the place wounded her.  
  
"Wraithwood? No, we can't possibly go there."  
  
"Aw, come on, it's a perfect vacation getaway," Misha said in jest, but the humor didn't translate completely to his face. In the next moment, the knowledge blossomed in Jensen's mind in the way that he was getting entirely too used to.  
  
The others must have gotten the information drop as well, for Alona paled and Jared's mouth dropped open as if he had words to say but they'd withered on his tongue.  
  
"Are you - are you quite sure?" Jensen asked, looking down at the map. There was no mistaking the path.  
  
Wraithwood was a dead forest. It was rumored to be haunted or worse. Legend had it that some foul curse had been laid on the place. Other legends said a battle of magics had taken place there which had caused a blight on the land, but no one could say for sure. All that was known was that to enter the forest was certain death – in the past three hundred years, not a soul who had entered the forest had returned alive. Jensen did not relish the thought of traveling through those woods. In fact, he’d rather avoid it at all costs.  
  
“Could your ship fly over the forest?” Jensen wondered aloud.  
  
“If I had the final item I need, I could take you as far as the edge,” Misha said. “The ship is sturdy enough, but it’s a magical construct as well as a scientific one. It needs a flame lit from the breath of a dragon, and I’m not likely to get that anytime soon. It would be the perfect maiden flight, too! Helping on a noble quest! Alas!”  
  
Jensen shared a long look with Jared, and Jared nodded his head.  
  
“We – we might be able to help you with that,” Jensen said hesitantly. Misha perked up, but looked confused.  
  
“How could you possibly?” Misha asked.  
  
“I don’t want to help make that monstrosity fly,” Alona said. “Besides, what makes you think we could?”  
  
“Dragon flame,” Jensen said, grasping Alona’s hand and tugging her towards the door. She glared but didn’t pull her hand away. Jared, Genevieve and Misha were only a step behind.  
  
Jensen stopped in front of the flying machine, looking at it with apprehension.  
  
“You can’t get on board yet,” Misha said. “We have to bring the stairs over.”  
  
“Osric!” Misha shouted for his assistant. “Come assist!”  
  
The smaller man came out of the back door of the house, sandwich in hand.  
  
“Can I finish eating first?” Osric asked.  
  
“Oh, hurry up,” Misha grumbled and they all stood there while Osric slowly finished his sandwich. “Are you done then?” Misha asked sarcastically. “You sure you don’t want to finish up with some tea and scones?”  
  
Osric rolled his eyes. “What did you need help with?”  
  
It took about then minutes, and all four men, to wrestle the giant wooden staircase over to the scaffolding and get it set up. Once that was done they climbed aboard. The scaffolding groaned and Jensen prayed it wouldn’t collapse beneath them.  
  
“What about the balloon?” Osric asked.  
  
“ _No need just yet_ ,” Misha said. “Let’s just see if we can get the flame going.”  
  
“The dragon flame,” Osric said skeptically.  
  
“Do you know of another flame?” Misha countered. Osric didn’t respond, but joined them on the deck of the ship.  
  
“Alright, I think we’re going to need all four of us to do this,” Jensen said. “Misha, show us where the flame needs to be.”  
  
Misha directed them to a sort of station that sat near the middle of the ship. The station looked almost like a small round table with a large ceramic basin in the middle of it. Under the basin a small cabinet door was set in the wooden base. From here Misha procured three glass jars. He poured a small amount of the contents – all three of which were some sort of powder – into the basin.  
  
“I didn’t use all of it,” Misha said, “in case this doesn’t work. If whatever you are doing does work, I imagine you’ll have a story to tell me about who you  _really_  are.”  
  
“Deal,” Jensen said.  
  
“How should we do this?” Jared asked.  
  
“The flame goes here,” Misha said helpfully, pointing at the powder he’d just put into the basin.  
  
“Wasn’t talking to you,” Alona snapped.  
  
“Oh, right,” Misha said, backing away. “Of course. Sorry.”  
  
“Alona, be nice,” Jensen said. “Ah, let’s see. Let’s stand in a circle around the station, join hands and concentrate on lighting the fire.”  
  
“Think  _dragony_ thoughts,” Alona said sarcastically.  
  
“Alona, will you please just  _try_ ,” Jensen barked at her. “Do you really want to take the long way back? Do you want to risk that? The sooner we get to the pool the sooner we can finish this quest and go back to our lives.”  
  
“Back to our lives,” Jared echoed on a breath. “Whichever lives those may be.”  
  
Jared’s tone was somber and Jensen knew from the looks on his companions faces that their thoughts had grown serious. Jensen wondered what his life was going to be like without these other three in it. Alona and Genevieve could definitely be considered friends at this point, but Jared, well, Jared was something more. What would Jensen’s life be like without Jared? Could they still be friends?  
  
“ _Dragony_ thoughts, Jensen,” Jared said softly, taking Jensen’s hand in his own warmer one. The contact was comforting and refocused Jensen’s thoughts on the task at hand.  
  
“Right,” Jensen said, closing his eyes. He felt Genevieve’s small hand clasp his and he thought back to the dream memories of the dragon.  
  
 _Flying high above the earth… I’m strong, wild and something to be feared. I am a dragon. I can breathe fire. I am a dragon. Feel this. Be this._  
  
Jensen felt it before he realized what was happening – a tightness in his chest, like he was being squeezed by a large hand. There was heat there too, burning in his belly and pushing up through his windpipe, filling his mouth and then – Jensen opened his eyes in astonishment as flame burst from his mouth and lit the basin. It only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough for Jensen to look at his companions as they breathed their own flame into the basin.  
  
His gaze landed and stayed on Jared, who was strangely beautiful with the flame issuing forth, and when it stopped a small tendril of smoke escaped the corner of his lips, and he laughed, long and loud.  
  
“We did it!” he gushed. “Jensen, I  _can_ breathe fire! We breathed fire!”  
  
Jensen suddenly found himself scooped up in Jared’s arms and being spun around like a girl.  
  
“Jared!” Jensen admonished him. “Put me down!”  
  
Jared released Jensen, but he couldn’t help but grin at him. “That was amazing!” Jared said.  
  
“What  _are_ you,” Misha said, staring at them with wide eyes. “When you said you could light the dragon flame, I thought perhaps you had a spell or something you were going to use. I never expected  _this_.”  
  
“It’s a rather long story,” Jensen said. “Are you sure you want to hear it?”  
  
“I’ve got all day,” Misha said.


	12. Chapter 12

  
  
The next morning Jensen awoke stiffly. They had, at Misha’s insistence, bedded down on the floor of his workshop so they’d be ready to go as soon as the ship was ready. When they’d accepted Misha’s offer to sleep there, instead of walking back to town and trying to find a room, Jensen hadn’t realized that all of Misha’s guest rooms were overflowing with tools of his trade. It would have been rude to decline after they’d accepted. Besides, it was only for one night. How uncomfortable could it be?  
  
 _Very_ , as it turned out. Jensen groaned quietly. The floor was hard despite all of the cushions and blankets and pillows Misha had lent them. Jared was pressed tightly against Jensen’s left side, his arm draped over Jensen’s chest. As for Jensen’s arm, it was pinned under Jared’s head as if it were Jared’s pillow. Jensen wiggled his fingers and they tingled uncomfortably. On his right, Alona had pressed up against him as well, but she was facing away, wrapped around Genevieve.  
  
Jensen’s back complained about the hardness of the floor and he tried to shift to his side, unable to do so with Jared’s weight holding him down. Jensen’s fidgeting woke Jared, who pressed his mouth to Jensen’s neck, running his lips over Jensen’s stubble. It was strangely arousing – an effect he did not want to experience while cuddled up next to Alona and Genevieve.  
  
“They’re asleep,” Jared whispered directly into to Jensen’s ear. “Think I could take care of you while they slept? You’d have to be quiet.”  
  
Jensen’s breathing sped up to match his heartbeat. “Jared—“ he started to say, but his speech stuttered to a halt when Jared’s hand trailed down his abdomen and cupped his crotch in a firm, altogether  _inappropriate_  grip.  
  
“All this time, Jens,” Jared whispered, “and I’ve yet to touch you the way I want to. I really want to see you come undone for me.”  
  
It took all of Jensen’s willpower not to press his hips into that delicious grip. “Jared, stop,” Jensen said, and immediately Jared removed his hand, although he looked disappointed. “Soon, Jensen,” Jared promised, but then doubt crept into his eyes. “Soon?”  
  
“Soon, Jared,” Jensen responded. “But I have to use the bathroom. You need to let me up before I go on everyone.”  
  
“Let him up,” Alona grumbled sleepily, having just awakened during Jensen’s threat. “Please let him up.”  
  
Jared laughed and let Jensen up, who stumbled outside to find a place to handle his business. Once his eyes adjusted to the morning light, all thoughts of finding and using a bathroom fled his mind as he took in the prepared airship. She’d been hosed down and so the metal wings shone brilliantly in the sunlight. Over the ship hovered what appeared to be three orbs, each one tethered to the flying machine by thick, sturdy ropes. On the bow of the ship an intricately carved dragon’s head was attached. Its mouth was open and whoever had crafted the piece had included meticulously carved wooden flames spewing forth. It was stunning, and Jensen just stared at the ship, completely overwhelmed. Now he understood why Misha had called this creation his  _magnum opus_.  
  
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Misha called from the deck of the ship. Jensen nodded, surprised that he hadn’t noticed Misha standing there at first. Misha pointed to the orbs. “Remember your fire? It’s there, in those balloons. It’s what’s going to get this baby off the ground.”  
  
Jensen blinked and thought Jared would probably find that fascinating, but Jensen just felt confused. Misha jogged down the steps and stood beside Jensen. The inventor was dressed differently today, in loose cotton trousers and what looked like a pirate shirt, with a long, fringed scarf for a belt. Jensen supposed it was as good of an outfit as any. Who knew what an airship captain was  _supposed_  to wear.  
  
“It might be a bit cold up there,” Misha said, pulling Jensen from his thoughts. “Do you have any coats?”  
  
“I don’t,” Jensen said. He tried to remember if any of the others had thought to purchase coats while in Southport. He didn’t think they had. “I think we’ll make do. Perhaps we could bring some of those blankets with us?”  
  
“Oh, of course,” Misha said. “That will work as well. Are your companions up? I can’t wait for lift off. Are you excited?”  
  
Jensen was a little excited. At least he was until he remembered where they were heading to.  
  
“How long will it take to get to Wraithwood?” he asked. “Do you think it’s as bad as the stories say it is?”  
  
“I doubt it’s as bad as all that,” Misha said. “I mean, I’ve heard tales that the rivers run red with human blood. I’m pretty sure that’s impossible. I’m pretty sure that live skeletons don’t walk between the trees either. As for how long it will take to get there? I think perhaps a day, a day and a half.”  
  
Jensen shivered at the talk of skeletons and bloody rivers and hoped that those stories were in fact untrue.  
  
“I’d fly you over the forest itself, but that’s one thing all the stories agree on, and that’s that magic will not work in the forest.”  
  
“It would fall apart,” Jensen agreed. “I understand. I wouldn’t want your airship to be destroyed either.”  
  
“Oh it’s not that,” Misha laughed. “Although that would be a pity. No, rather I’m pretty sure the fall would kill us all.”  
  
Jensen laughed at that; he couldn’t help it. “I suppose that’s a good reason as well. I’ll go get the others up. Oh, hey, when I do – where’s the bathroom?”  
  
Misha laughed again and pointed the way.

* * *

  
  
After breakfast it was time for liftoff. By that time Osric had arrived and firmly established that he was not going with them, assistant or not.  
  
“No,” Osric said. “My feet are staying firmly on the ground, the way man was intended to be.”  
  
“Ah, but you’ve sailed in ships!” Misha countered. Osric sputtered.  
  
“But that’s – that’s completely  _different_!”  
  
“How so?” Misha asked, genuinely curious.  
  
“If I fall off a ship in the sea, I might drown but it’s not absolutely certain that I’m going to die,” Osric said. “If I fall off that – that thing, I’m definitely going to die! No second chances, no suddenly growing wings, no, I’m going to die!”  
  
“Oh don’t be so melodramatic,” Misha said while laughing.  
  
“Comforting,” Alona murmured while mounting the steps to board the ship. “We’re all going to die.”  
  
“Alona!” This admonishment came from Genevieve who was directly behind Jensen on the stairs.  
  
“Well, we might,” Alona murmured under her breath, loud enough that only Jensen heard her.  
  
“Are we all aboard?” Misha asked once Genevieve stood on deck. They were. Jensen glanced to Jared, who was excitedly moving about the ship, trying to figure out how it worked, to Alona, who looked angry about having to fly on this machine of magic, metal and dragon leather, to Genevieve, who looked terrified. Misha walked over to Genevieve and placed a hand on her shoulder.  
  
“We’ll be alright,” he told her, his tone soft. Genevieve didn’t respond but made her way to the wall next to the captain’s cabin and sat on the floor.  
  
“Osric, get the ropes!” Misha called down to his assistant.  
  
“Good luck Misha!” Osric shouted back. “Don’t die! I need this job!”  
  
“You ungrateful brat,” Misha said, but he was laughing. Osric untied the lines and with a shudder, the airship started to rise into the air. It felt a bit like they were suspended from the heavens by a rope, swinging back and forth. Misha ran around the deck, pulling ropes and adjusting things here and there, laughing as he went.  
  
“Woo hoo, look at me! I’m an airship captain!” Misha crowed, twirling madly in a circle and nearly losing his balance. He stumbled to the edge of the ship and grasped the railing. Looking down, he turned a bit green before grinning like a crazy person and shouting, “I should probably refrain from doing that!”  
  
“You think?” Alona groused, but she was smiling nonetheless. Genevieve was pressed as tightly as she could against the side of the cabin, her hand over her heart. Jensen, still unsure of the safety of flying himself, cautiously made his way over to her.  
  
“Are you alright?” He asked.  
  
“Oh, I’m just lovely,” Genevieve said with sarcasm that he would’ve expected from Alona. “Just give me a little bit to get used to it – I didn’t expect it to be like this.”  
  
Jensen gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Well, when you get used to it, come stand by the railing. The view is spectacular.”  
  
The view  _was_  spectacular. Jensen found he loved standing next to the railing and looking down at the land passing under them. In only a few minutes they were over the sea, one that had taken them days to cross. Jensen tried to see if he could find the sea-dragon, or if she would take issue with their flight, but there was no sign of her. The skies were calm and the day was sunny.  
  
“Misha says you might want to go sit in the cabin for a while,” Jared said, coming up beside him. “You’re turning a little pink.”  
  
“I don’t care,” Jensen said with a smile. “This is amazing! Can you imagine flying like this whenever you wanted to? I almost hope I am the dragon, just for that reason alone.”  
  
Jared smiled at Jensen and turned his face to the sun, closing his eyes and letting the wind blow his hair into his face. It was a beautiful sight, Jensen thought. He almost wished he could stay here forever, just Jared and him, flying together over the sea.

* * *

  
  
The trip took longer than expected, even with Misha tirelessly piloting them through the night. The purpose of the dragon flame, as Jared learned and relayed to Jensen, was fuel replacement. Instead of filling the balloons with something that would simply burn out, the dragon flame would exist indefinitely inside of the balloons, until such time that Misha decided to extinguish it. The wings controlled which direction the airship turned, and Jared was positively ecstatic the next day when Misha let him pilot for a few hours while Misha got some sleep.  
  
Around dawn they flew over Sheppardston, and everyone crowded the railing to look down. Misha teased them about overbalancing the ship, but the ship didn’t seem to mind them all standing on one side and kept level in the sky. Down in Sheppardston the damage from the Witherkin was still visible, even from the sky, but Jensen noticed scaffolding that had been erected around the breach in the wall, which reassured everyone that Sheppardston wasn’t a complete loss. Jensen wondered what the people on the ground must think of the strange metal flying dragon in the sky. He wondered what Felicia would think of it.  
  
It was nearly dark again by the time they neared Wraithwood. Jensen saw it first – the dead forest was a dark brown stain on the otherwise verdant landscape.  
  
Misha made the airship hover in place that night, far enough away from the forest that he felt comfortable sleeping.  
  
“I don’t want to let you go in there,” Misha said over dinner that night. “You’ve made this maiden flight better than I ever imagined – honestly, I never thought this thing would even leave the ground, much less fly to Mainsail and back. I can’t begin to thank you enough, but I can try.” From the pocket on his vest Misha extracted four pendants on leather ribbons. “I don’t know if these will work, but I made them the night before we set off. They’re warding amulets to protect you against evil. I know magic doesn’t work in Wraithwood, but this is technically anti-magic. “  
  
“Weren’t you worried about them affecting the ship?” Genevieve wondered.  
  
“Huh? Oh, no, it doesn’t start working until it’s worn by a person. And not just in their pocket,” Misha said with a smile. “Also, I have a tent you can borrow in case you don’t make it through those woods in one day and have to spend the night. That way you have to live, so that you can return it.”  
  
Misha looked proud of himself for that, and Jensen couldn’t help but smile. Soon, they were all laughing and pointedly ignoring the dead forest that loomed so large on the horizon.  
  
The next morning Misha landed the ship outside of Wraithwood and watched with a somber expression as the four travelers took their leave.  
  
“Good luck,” Misha said. “I don’t want to say goodbye because I’m afraid it’ll mean you won’t come back.”  
  
“We’ll come back,” Jensen said, trying to be reassuring.  
  
With that their farewells were said, and Jensen, Jared, Alona and Genevieve descended a rope ladder dangled over the side of the ship and stood on solid ground once more.  
  
Wraithwood was waiting.  
  
The forest sat on the edge of the northern plains, where the island began to narrow. Wraithwood stretched from here to the northern sea, which was inaccessible to ships due to its rocky beaches and dangerous cliffs. According to the map the Pool of Restoration was nestled deep in the forest, past the village of Gatewood, which was probably just as dead as the forest that surrounded it.  
  
There was a road here still, not well maintained but decent enough that it wouldn’t shake apart a carriage or make a wheel come off. It ran straight into the wood, no twists or turns – nothing to delay the inevitable.  
  
Jared was carrying the tent in a pack on his back, along with food and weapons. Jensen was carrying his set of throwing knives on his belt and the lute on his back. Alona and Genevieve had their weapons as well. It was the first time they’d felt the need for their weapons since leaving Sheppardston.  
  
Together, they steeled themselves and followed the road into the forest.  
  
They would make it through.  
  
They had to.

* * *

  
  
Wraithwood Forest was inexplicably dark. Overhead, the sun was shining, obscured only by a few fluffy white clouds that dotted the sky here and there, but it was as if the forest was apart from that – as if it were slightly removed from the world and forever cloaked in shadow. The wood was silent as well, the only sound to be heard was the soft crunch of dead, dried leaves under the travelers’ feet as they cautiously entered the forest.  
  
Jensen was hyper-aware of his own breathing. It seemed overly loud in the silence and gloom of his surroundings. He was sure that if he stopped and listened he would hear his heart beat just as surely as he could hear his breathing.  
  
The trees were mostly leafless. The leaves that did grow were small, withered things that clung tenaciously to the branches that spread their skeleton-like arms towards the sky.  
  
“Anyone else for turning around right now and leaving?” Alona asked, her tone only slightly joking. She looked uncharacteristically vulnerable, her arms crossed over her chest and her hands running up and down her arms as if she were cold. She remembered her weapons then, and her hand went to rest on the hilt of her sword, the same one she’d wielded in the battle against the Witherkin. That seemed so long ago.  
  
“This place – it’s – I don’t know, but it’s wrong,” Genevieve said. She bent at the knee and crouched low, placing her hands on the forest floor. Her fingers dug through the leaves and pressed into the soil and she closed her eyes while she breathed deeply. “Feel this,” she said.  
  
The other three did as Genevieve instructed, kneeling or crouching and placing their hands on the ground.  
  
“This place was cursed by dark magic,” Jared said. Jensen could feel it too, a creeping sensation just below the surface. There was sadness there, and anger as well.  
  
“I think we just announced our arrival,” Alona said. She looked from one person to the next, her eyes wide and nervous.  
  
“We did,” Jensen confirmed as a gust of wind sprang up without warning, winding its way through the trees and scattering dead leaves and other detritus as it went. Under his hand the ground almost seemed to pulse, and a feeling of apprehension coiled low in his belly. “Let’s hope this forest isn’t as haunted as the stories would have us believe.”  
  
Jared lifted his face, meeting Jensen’s gaze with his own. His eyes were filled with the same apprehension that Jensen felt. A long moment of silence passed between them.  
  
“I think it is,” Jared said.  
  
“So do I,” said Genevieve.  
  
“Perhaps we shouldn’t linger here, then,” Jensen said. “The road is still here; let’s follow it for as long as we can. It is heading north, right?”  
  
Jared pulled the compass Misha had given him out of his pocket and scrutinized it.  
  
“Yes. Yes it is,” he confirmed.  
  
“Good,” Jensen said. “Let’s get going.”  
  
“You call this a road?” Alona complained. As far as roads went, this one was less than ideal, but then again, it had been years since anyone bothered with the upkeep. Tree branches hung low over the road, brought down by storms and snow. Some branches had broken off and now lay strewn across the path, causing Jensen and company to climb over them to continue on their way. The road itself was uneven and strewn with ruts and gullies from water running over it unchecked. Large chunks of rock lay here and there, some mostly buried in dirt and dead leaves. Before too long the road was gone, surrendered to the decay of the forest.  
  
They kept walking. After a while the trees became thicker, closer together. Jensen felt like there were eyes on him. He could sense a presence – maybe more than one – watching him. He was tempted to put his hands on the earth again and try to see what more he could sense, but he didn’t think that was a good idea. Out of the corners of his eyes he kept seeing shapes, flitting from tree to tree, keeping pace with the travelers as they walked.  
  
“Do you see-“  
  
“Don’t acknowledge it,” Genevieve said softly. “Don’t try to look at them.”  
  
“What are they?” Jared asked. Jensen could tell it was taking considerable effort on Jared’s part not to investigate. “Do you know?”  
  
“They are our sisters,” Genevieve said and her voice carried a wealth of sorrow. “Our sisters and our brothers, but I don’t sense any life from them.”  
  
 _Dryad ghosts_ , Jensen thought,  _Wonderful_.  
  
“Let’s just get as far as we can before nightfall,” Jensen said.  
  
“Agreed,” Genevieve whispered.  
  
They walked in a line, Jared first, with Alona and Genevieve behind him and Jensen bringing up the rear. Jensen tried to pay attention to their surroundings in case a threat appeared, and at the same time tried not to see what was lurking just outside his vision.  
  
He was only moderately successful. Sometimes a form would dance into his line of sight, looking like some sort of paper stick figure a child would draw. They were long and spindly creatures, and if they were dryads then they were more sinister tree than benevolent woodland spirit.  
  
Night came early to the Wraithwood. They barely had time to set up their camp before it was pitch black. Surprisingly, they still had the ability to use their dragon fire, which lit a merry little campfire in front of their tent. Around them, the previously quiet forest seemed to come to a sort of half-life at night. Jensen swore he could hear people or animals moving through the forest in the crunch of the leaves and the snapping of branches. Genevieve stayed outside long enough to eat their meager dinner and then retreated to the confines of their tent, as if the flimsy fabric would protect her from whatever was moving through the trees.  
  
Jared insisted on keeping watch for the first half of the night. Jensen wanted to stay up with him and keep him company but agreed that they should probably split the night between them. Jared kissed him goodnight – as promised he’d done it every night, and Jensen and the girls curled up in the tent and tried to sleep.  
  
Sleep was a long time coming.

* * *

  
  
“Jensen,” Jared whispered. “Jensen wake up; it’s your turn to keep watch.” When Jensen didn’t respond, Jared started to shake him. Jensen resented being woken up when it had taken him so long to fall asleep, but he fought his way to consciousness nonetheless.  
  
“So soon?” Jensen groused. “I swear I only just closed my eyes.”  
  
“It’s been longer than you think, Jens,” Jared said on a yawn. “The forest has gotten noisier, but nothing has come close to our fire. Thank the Gods.”  
  
Jensen stepped outside of the tent and stretched. The fire had died down a bit and there was a noticeable chill in the air. He would probably add some fuel to the fire to keep it burning through the night. He briefly entertained the thought of waking up one of the girls to come keep watch with him, but then if Jared had been fine than Jensen should be as well.  
  
“Goodnight, Jared,” Jensen said as Jared closed the flap that served as the door. “Sweet dreams.”  
  
“Not likely,” Jared whispered from inside the tent. “You’ll see what I mean soon enough.”  
  
That was enough to set Jensen’s skin to prickling and he rubbed his arms with his hands. It was more of a self-comforting gesture than meant to warm him. He sat down on a fallen tree trunk and settled in for his watch. Was that frogs he heard croaking? Perhaps the forest wasn’t as completely devoid of life as it appeared. Jensen thought about it and realized that while he had seen insects on the trees earlier, there had been no birds and certainly no wildlife. Jensen took his dagger from his boot and toyed with it, holding it between his forefingers and balancing it on the back of his hand before flipping his hand and catching the blade before it could hit the ground. He kept his eyes alert, letting his gaze dart from here to there, following the line of light cast from the fire and not really wanting to know what really lay beyond its cozy glow.  
  
It was subtle at first, just a gentle wind that blew through the forest and set the trees to swaying. The branches scratched against each other and the trunks of the trees creaked and groaned. Then it was a whisper, his name blown about the tops of the trees as they bent close to tell each other secrets.  
  
 _“Jensssssssennnnnn.”_  
  
Jensen had heard of this phenomenon in forests and dismissed it out of hand. Sometimes the wind blew through the trees; it was the human mind that tried to arrange the sounds into something familiar.  
  
 _“Jensssssssennnnnn.”_  
  
Alright, that had definitely been his name that time. Oh well, he could ignore it. As long as whatever it was that whispered his name didn’t venture any closer – and how he wished they had thought not to use their own names while in the forest – he would be alright. He was half tempted to wake up Jared and ask him if he’d heard his name being blown about the treetops, but then he heard Jared’s soft snores and decided to let him sleep.  
  
At the edge of the fire’s glow, where the light was swallowed up by darkness, he thought he heard footsteps. Jensen stood and grasped his dagger tightly in his hand, holding it in front of himself protectively. There it was again, the soft crunch of steps on dead moss, the rustle of dried leaves as they were pushed about.  
  
“Who’s there?” he demanded to know. The only reply was the croaking of frogs and more rustling of leaves. Jensen’s heartbeat sped up; he could feel his adrenaline kick in, causing a tingling in his fingertips and a rush of heat to his face.  
  
“Jensssenn,” said the voice again, this time just outside the firelight. “You’re ignoring your sister. Come to me.” The voice was feminine, a low alto tone, soft and sultry.  
  
“Who are you?” Jensen said. “Show yourself.”  
  
A figure crept forward; close enough to be illuminated by the firelight but still far enough away to be cloaked in shadows. Jensen gasped. She was statuesque, taller than either Alona or Genevieve and dressed in a loose, flowing gown that clasped over one shoulder and left her slender arms bare. The firelight danced over her frame, and as she lifted her face from shadows, the light caught in her eyes – mossy green depths that seemed to tug at Jensen’s very soul. Jensen steeled himself against the magnetism of her gaze, dagger still held aloft. Woman or ghost or monster – whatever she was, Jensen couldn’t be sure and he wasn’t about to take any chances. Still, her beauty was ethereal, and Jensen couldn’t help but let his gaze wander over her supple form and the sweet swell of her lips.  
  
“Jensen, you come to my forest but you don’t know me? My forest needs your help – it’s dying.” She held out her hand toward him, the firelight playing across her pale green skin, and then Jensen knew what she was.  _Dryad_. A living, breathing dryad, and probably the only one left alive in all of Wraithwood, surrounded by the specters of her loved ones for company. “Yes,” the woman breathed. “See, my love, you know me.”  
  
“How – how can I help you?” Jensen asked, taking a step toward her. The hand that held his dagger swung down to his side now that he’d ascertained that she wasn’t an immediate threat. “Who are you?”  
  
“Oh, sweetheart, my name is Alaina, but that’s neither here nor there. Do you feel better now that you know my name?” Alaina’s voice was soothing, and Jensen had to admit that yes, he did feel better knowing her name. He stumbled a little as he moved toward her, but that wasn’t important. Her voice settled deep in his chest and filled him with warmth. She was a dryad; he was a dryad, at least in part.  
Alaina pressed her hand to Jensen’s chest, looking up at him with wide, lovely eyes. Jensen looked deep into those eyes even as her slim hand took ahold of the amulet he wore draped around his neck. She cradled it in her palm and examined it closely, almost caressing it as she lifted it closer to her face.  
  
“Lover, what’s this?” she asked. “Can I have it?”  
  
Yes, of course she could have it. It would probably help protect her from the evils of this forest. Jensen nodded. “Take it,” he whispered as his forehead touched hers and her other arm encircled his waist. Something heavy fell from Jensen’s hand and landed with a quiet  _thud_  on the ground, but Jensen couldn’t remember what it was. It probably wasn’t important.  
  
“Thank you,” Alaina whispered as the leather ribbon around Jensen’s neck decayed into dust. The amulet still rested in her hand, and she closed her fingers around it.  
  
“We’ll have no need of this,” she said, and when she opened her fingers again the amulet was also reduced to dust. She turned her hand and let the dust pour down, down, down to the ground. That was alright, though. If Alaina said they wouldn’t need it, then it must be so. She drew him closer to her, until his body was flush against hers and he could feel all of those enticing curves.  
  
“You should kiss me,” Alaina whispered as she rubbed her hand over the small of Jensen’s back. The long, graceful fingers of her other hand stroked through Jensen’s hair, the touch tender and gentle. Jensen blinked slowly and rested his hands on her hips.  
  
“If you command it, then I shall do it,” he said, and for a brief second he wondered  _why_  he should kiss her. Wasn’t there someone else he usually kissed instead?  
  
No, of course not. His lover was Alaina, and he would follow her wherever she needed him to go. His brain felt a little muddled, but that didn’t matter when Alaina put her hand on the back of his neck and drew him down so that his mouth covered hers. Her lips were soft and cool, and when she opened her mouth to him, letting him lick inside with his tongue, his body shivered when he realized that she wasn’t quite as warm inside as she should be. Perhaps dryads ran cold?  
  
She pulled away from him, breaking their kiss and pulling at his shirt. She smiled at him, and though it was a lovely, breathtaking smile, something wasn’t right. Something stirred deep in his psyche and made him want to pull away even as she drew him deeper and deeper into the woods.  
  
“Remember the forest when it was young, my love? How we’d all dance together and there was nothing but joy here? You can help me bring it back,” she said as he followed her. Jensen’s legs felt heavier with each step forward, as if he were walking through quicksand. The very air around him seemed to thicken, making it hard to draw breath.  
  
“Just a short ways longer, my love,” Alaina whispered, holding him close again as if to help him through the forest. “Just a little longer now, and I promise you will feel better. You’re my hero, remember? You’re saving my forest. Do it for me, lover.”  
  
“Yes, of course,” Jensen breathed. Around them he could see what looked to be fairy lights, flitting in and out of his vision, and he knew they were here to witness their tryst and bless their union. He heard water running as he was led into a small clearing, and the moonlight above reflected on a stream that burbled merrily through the forest.  
  
 _Water_ , he thought.  _Wasn’t I looking for a pool_? He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts but he was drawn back, always back, to the deep pools of Alaina’s eyes. Perhaps that was the pool he was looking for. Of course it was. It had to be.  
  
“Lie down, sweetheart,” Alaina said, pushing against his chest until he complied. “Let me comfort you.”  
  
“Jensen!”  
  
The voice invaded his consciousness and helped clear his thoughts a little, but then Alaina was on top of him, straddling him, and who could blame him for ignoring whatever distractions were trying to deny him this?  
  
“Jensen!”  
  
 _Jared_. He knew that voice – knew it well.  _Wait_ , he thought,  _this isn’t right_.  
  
“Shhh, Lover, I won’t let them take you,” Alaina said and turning her body she growled low in her throat. She lifted her hands and started to weave her fingers through the air. Some sort of energy emanated from her fingertips, glowing bright blue as she wove a tapestry of light around them. It was beautiful, and reminded Jensen of a summer sky.  
  
“Jensen! Fight her!”  
  
Jared wanted Jensen to fight her? Why? She was lovely and Jensen was going to help her save her forest. Why would he fight that? Why would  _anyone_  fight that?  
  
Alaina leaned forward, resting her chest against Jensen’s and buried her face in his neck, inhaling his scent.  
  
“You’ll do nicely. My poor sisters and brothers will love you too. Of course they’ll have to share you, but every little bit helps.” Alaina pushed up into a sitting position, still on top of Jensen and splayed both hands against Jensen’s chest.  
  
From where her hands rested, fingertips pressing down into his diaphragm, he felt tendrils of agony spread out, burning through his body and sinking deep into the ground underneath him. It was similar to the way he could touch the earth and feel the Mother, but then again it was  _nothing_  like that. This was dark and twisted and horrible.  
  
Jensen screamed as the pain intensified, boiling in his chest like water left over a flame. His skin began to glow with the same blue light as Alaina had used to weave their protective shield, and that glow began to seep down into the ground. Suddenly he knew what was happening, but he couldn’t move, even to save his own life. He could feel himself weakening further as the forest fed on his life force, as it sapped his strength and his vital energy.  
  
Jensen had been played for a fool. He’d been tricked. He’d been bewitched.  
  
 _He’d been stupid, and now he was going to die._  
  
“J-Jared,” he managed to croak out.  
  
“No!” He heard Jared shout, echoed by two feminine voices that could only be Alona and Genevieve.  
  
“Go find her tree!” Jared shouted. “Burn it down!”  
  
“What? No!” Alaina jerked away from Jensen at the threat and the light that surrounded them faded back into darkness. Jensen groaned and tried to move, but he was very weak now and could barely raise his arms. Alaina was moving away from him now, her back turned to him as she prepared to protect her tree.  
  
He saw Jared’s silhouette as he rushed toward him, no doubt to try and help Jensen. Alaina saw him coming and her eyes flared orange. One hand snapped up in the air and with a rush of wind, Jared was pushed back against the trunk of the nearest tree. Alaina stalked over to Jared, her power still holding him pinned against the tree. Jared struggled against the hold, but it was of no use.  
  
“You should be a gentleman and wait your turn,” she hissed at him, grasping his face in her hand and squeezing mercilessly. Jensen winced. That had to hurt. “But now, I’m not even going to allow you the honor of feeding my forest. You are just going to die!”  
  
“Jensen!” Alona shouted from some distance away. “Where is her tree?”  
  
“It’s near here!” Jensen managed to shout. “Everything in this grove is  _alive_! It has to be  _here_!” He struggled to roll onto his side and then push himself up into a sitting position. Reaching down to his belt , he loosed one of his throwing knives, aimed, and let the blade fly.  
  
The knife lodged securely in the dryad’s back and she shrieked in pain and turned back to face Jensen.  
  
“You  _traitor_!” she screamed. “How  _dare_  you attack me?”  
  
Jensen flinched, for the beauty that had enchanted him when he’d first seen her was long gone. Wraithwood the forest was decaying, and with it Alaina, its lone living dryad, was withering away as well. Her cheek, which had been full and soft under Jensen’s fingertips when he’d kissed her was now sloughing off, and he could see the line of her teeth through ragged muscle all the way back to her back molars. Jensen felt his stomach heave at the thought that he’d kissed that.  
  
Jensen’s vision was going dark, but he fought for awareness long enough to see Alona and Genevieve find an ancient, partially rotten tree and place their hands on it in obvious concentration.  
  
“No!” Alaina screamed, her mouth opening incrementally wider than should have been physically possible. She held up one hand – parts of it were patchy and brown – rotten, just like her tree. Her eyes were still beautiful though, and they filled with tears. “Please, please don’t destroy my tree! I have to save my forest, I have to feed the trees! Please!”  
  
Her pleas fell on deaf ears as Alona and Genevieve brought their dragon fire to bear on the tree, which went up like so much kindling. If the tree had been alive at all, it was only barely so.  
  
As the tree burned, the dryad’s form began to shrivel. It was ghastly to behold as the firm supple flesh sucked in to cleave to the bone, and then it was as if Alaina herself had been set on fire, and she screamed as the fire consumed her from feet to head. It went on for several long seconds, but the forest was quiet after it happened, except for the frogs. Jensen could still hear the frogs croaking. He sighed, content in the knowledge that his friends had rescued him, and that they were probably going to be alright, provided nothing else was lurking in Wraithwood that wanted to suck their life force.  
  
Jensen’s eyelids suddenly felt too heavy, and in the next moment he succumbed to the darkness inside his head.


	13. Chapter 13

“Jensen.”.  
  
Jensen groaned and tried to roll over, unsuccessfully. He struggled but his limbs still felt heavy and weak.  
  
“Jensen, wake up already.”  
  
“Alona! Be nice,” Jared’s voice pierced through Jensen’s sleep-addled mind and he opened his eyes.  
  
“I’d like to get out of this forest today,” Alona snapped back. Able to see now, Jensen saw that Alona was leaning into the tent and glaring at Jared, in whose lap Jensen’s head lay.  
  
“Help me sit up, please,” Jensen said, struggling. Jared placed a firm hand under Jensen’s back and with the added support Jensen was able to sit up. He blinked slowly and took in his surroundings. That he was in the tent was obvious, but outside it was broad daylight. The bright light filtered in through the seams of the tent. Was this still Wraithwood?  
  
Jensen felt life returning to his body and he pushed his way out of the tent, past Alona who murmured, “Excuse you.”  
  
“Jensen!”  
  
Jensen heard Genevieve shout his name excitedly only a moment before he had his arms full of petite brunette. A little stiffly, he hugged her back and then let her go. She was smiling widely at him.  
“I was so worried about you! Well, we all were,” she amended quickly.  
  
Jensen looked around. The forest was definitely brighter. It wasn’t like it had burst into a sudden springtime, no, it was much more subtle than that, but something about the forest had definitely changed.  
“The forest feels different,” Jensen said. It was more of a question, really and Genevieve grinned.  
  
“That’s the second best part. Watch this.” Genevieve hastily knelt down and put her hands on the ground. In a moment he saw the soil start to quiver and then split to make way for a seedling to emerge. This was more than just different.  
  
“That’s amazing,” Jensen breathed.  
  
“Oh, by the way, our magic’s back,” Alona said, and Jensen frowned at her nonchalance. He turned to face her, intent on explaining how  _phenomenal_ this was, but Alona was beaming, her face split wide on a smile.  
  
Jared came out of the tent, a grin on his face as well. “Three hundred years, Jensen,” he said. “It’s been three hundred years since anything natural grew in this forest. I think the curse is lifted.”  
  
“We broke a three hundred year old curse?” Jensen asked dubiously.  
  
“Sort of,” Jared said, the words upended like a question. “When we burnt that  _thing’s_  tree, it destroyed all of the ghost dryads in the forest. It must have been anchoring them here, trapping them in a permanent state of unrest. These trees are well and truly dead now. I think that thing –“  
  
“Her name was Alaina,” said Jensen, his voice somber. He kicked at the leaves under his feet. “She was the only living dryad in the forest and she was desperate to save it. I don’t think the land was cursed so much as it was corrupted. She was trying to save her forest the only way she knew how, and she just ended up making things worse.”  
  
“Maybe we should have let her feed you to the forest since you seem to feel sorry for her,” Alona teased, but her tone was sad. Wraithwood, and what had befallen it, was sad.  
  
“Shut up,” was what Jensen said in return. “Let’s go. I want to end this quest. How long was I asleep?”  
  
“A day and a night,” Jared said quietly. Jensen turned his head in Jared’s direction and saw the serious expression on Jared’s face. “Alona, Genevieve, can you two put the tent away while I take Jensen to get some water and wash up?”  
  
“Sure,” said Genevieve.  
  
“Water?” Jensen asked. When they’d entered the forest they’d each had a canteen of water in their supplies.  
  
“We ran out of water yesterday,” said Jared, pushing branches out of his way as he led Jensen through the forest. “But this water is pure. You’ll be able to sense it when you run your hands through it. Genevieve said it was probably clean enough to drink, but then I remembered a water purification spell that made us sure it was fine to drink. How are you holding up?”  
  
“Me? Oh, I’m alright,” Jensen answered truthfully. With every step he seemed to regain more and more of his strength. He stopped to lean against a tree and watched Jared clear more of a path.  
  
“Jared, wait,” Jensen called. Jared turned and hurried back over to Jensen. Jared’s forehead creased in concern..  
  
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Jared asked.  
  
“Thank you for saving me,” Jensen said. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d be dead and feeding the ghosts that were in this forest. So, thank you.”  
  
“You don’t need to thank—“  
  
Jensen reached up and pulled Jared down to him so that their mouths crashed together. Jared grunted in surprise but was quick on the uptake, pressing Jensen up against the tree. Jared’s mouth trailed down Jensen’s chin and to his neck, where Jared left teasing little nips..  
  
“Didn’t think I’d ever get a chance to do this,” Jared said softly against Jensen’s skin. “Let me touch you?”  
  
“Gods, please, I was stupid to wait so long,” Jensen managed to bite out. Jared’s hands reached down and grabbed twin handfuls of Jensen’s buttocks, hoisting him up against the trunk of the tree which creaked dangerously.  
  
Jensen wrapped his legs around Jared’s waist.  
  
“Do you want to stop?” Jared asked.  
  
“What? Why?”  
  
“Well, what if the girls-“  
  
“Let ‘em watch,” Jensen said before drawing Jared’s face up for another kiss. “I almost didn’t get this. Do it.”  
  
Jared pressed his hips tightly to Jensen’s, slotting their arousals together. Jensen gasped and arched his hips up, searching for more, more, more.  
  
“Please, Jared,” Jensen moaned, unsure what he was asking for.  
  
“I want to be inside you,” Jared said and Jensen wholeheartedly agreed, “but I don’t have anything to smooth the way, so it will have to wait.” The words were peppered with kisses all over Jensen’s face.  
  
“Just touch me then, Jared,” Jensen demanded.  
  
“Hang on to the tree,” Jared instructed, and Jensen did as he was told, grasping the tree behind him as best he could, using that and his legs around Jared’s hips to keep from sliding down. Jared reached down with one hand and opened the fly on Jensen’s trousers, freeing his erection from the fabric and following suit with his own fly. Now that both of them were exposed to the morning air, Jared thrust his hips up against Jensen’s and wrapped his free hand around both of them, stroking them slowly at first.  
  
“Oh – oh, Gods, Jared,” Jensen gasped, thrusting into Jared’s grip.  
  
“Yes, that’s it,” Jared said, his own voice hitching as he found his pleasure. “I’ve wanted to see that for the longest time. You’re stunning like this.”  
  
“Jared, shut up, please shut up,” Jensen growled, losing himself in the sensation of Jared’s hand caressing up and down their lengths. Jared leaned closer, the grasp on Jensen’s ass almost painful where his fingers dug into Jensen’s flesh.  
  
It didn’t take long before Jensen came with a with a bitten off cry, the proof of his bliss pulsing from his manhood and dribbling down over Jared’s fingers, slicking the way. Jared rested his forehead against Jensen’s, and Jensen could tell he was trying to keep his eyes open to watch Jensen’s face when he came, but he lost the battle when his own orgasm hit, and Jared’s come joined Jensen’s, mingling between their bodies.  
  
They stayed like that for a few minutes while their breathing and beating hearts calmed down. Then slowly, carefully, Jared lowered Jensen to the ground where they separated and fixed their clothing.  
  
“I hope this stream is as great as you make it sound,” Jensen said. “Otherwise everyone will know what we were up to.”  
  
Jared didn’t respond, but he smiled at Jensen, and his eyes were soft.  
  
When they arrived back at the campsite, washed and arranged, Alona gave them one look.  
  
“Well you two look positively debauched,” she said with a wink. “Hope you had fun.”  
  
Jared laughed, long and loud  
.  
Jensen wasn’t sure if he’d ever been a darker shade of red in his life. Probably not.

* * *

The remaining walk through the woods wasn’t nearly as disconcerting as it had been the day before – or rather, the day before yesterday. It was hard for Jensen to remember that he’d been asleep for over twenty-four hours.  
  
The forest, comparatively speaking, was almost cheerful. There were no birds and the trees were still almost dead, but at least now the sunlight was filtering through the branches of the trees and dappling the ground quite beautifully.  
  
They walked for two more days, Jared and Jensen taking time alone to bathe when they could, as well as engage in more pleasurable activities, not the least of which was when Jensen fell to his knees and took Jared in his mouth, eliciting sounds that, if Jensen hadn’t known better, would have been indicative of Jared dying.  
  
Finally, on their fourth day in the forest, they came across a rock wall that seemed to follow a dilapidated road. Jensen and Genevieve studied the map carefully and declared that they must be nearing the village of Gatewood, and that they’d better be on the lookout for more ghosts – although no one had spotted a ghost after the incident with Alaina that first night.  
  
They followed the rock wall and the road running beside it until they burst from the treeline and found themselves looking at what could only be the village of Gatewood. Jensen had expected wither and ruins, the skeletons of buildings reaching skywards in a vain attempt to somehow remain what they had been. He hadn’t been expecting this.  
  
Granted, the village of Gatewood was no bustling metropolis. Even compared to Sheppardston, this town was small. It barely warranted a dot on the map. Small houses dotted the landscape, clustered close together as if protecting one another from the curse of the Wraithwood Forest. The forest had been cleared back from fields which looked like they’d been used to make large gardens, and they were recently tended. There were barns here and there with the sounds of live animals inside.  
  
“Is it possible?” Jared breathed, his eyes wide. “Could they have lived here all this time?”  
  
“I’d say it’s more than possible,” Genevieve responded. “Look, there are people here, and I’m almost certain they’re not ghosts.”  
  
“Well this changes things,” Jensen said. “We should let them know it’s safe to go into the forest now.”  
  
Just then they were spotted by some of the villagers. A shout was heard and then several farmers were running toward them with what looked to be pitchforks and other farming equipment wielded as weapons.  
  
“Wait, wait, wait!” Jared boomed. The villagers stilled a ways away from them and eyed them warily. “We’re just travelers – we came through the forest!”  
  
“Liars,” accused one of the farmers, a man about Jensen’s height with scruffy blond hair and what appeared to be a permanent squint. “The forest is cursed. No one comes through it alive.”  
  
“We’re alive, I swear,” Genevieve said. “The curse, or whatever it was, has been lifted.”  
  
“You’re saying you broke the curse on Wraithwood? The curse that has caused us to be trapped here for over three hundred years? You just waltzed in and broke the curse? Who are you?”  
  
Jensen couldn’t blame the man for being suspicious, but an idea occurred to him.  
  
“Look, the curse doesn’t allow anything to grow in Wraithwood, correct? What if we can prove the curse has been broken?”  
  
“How do you plan to do that?” the man asked. He still looked skeptical, but at the same time hopeful.  
  
“Come with us into the very edge of the forest,” Jensen said. This prompted the villagers to raise their implements even higher, as if it were a trap.  
  
“It’s not a trap,” Alona said. She side-eyed Jensen a bit, a look that said she hoped he knew what he was doing. Jensen smiled.  
  
“No, it’s not a trap. Look, just come with us to the very edge. You can get out quickly if it’s a trap and besides, there’s more of you than there are of us,” Jensen said. The villagers looked to each other and had a silent conversation, before one or two of them shrugged. The blond, who seemed to be their leader, nodded.  
  
“Alright, but if it’s a trap you can expect to have your body pierced with at least one pitchfork before we cut you up and feed you to our pigs.”  
  
Genevieve blanched. Jensen wasn’t too keen on the idea either. Jensen turned and led the way back to the treeline, where he faced his friends.  
  
“Alright, let’s do something spectacular like make these trees bloom, or grow, to show them that the curse is lifted. What do you think? Anyone have any better ideas?”  
  
“I think the blooming is a great trick,” Jared said. “But I think we’re all going to have to concentrate on this one together, like we did with the dragon flame.”  
  
They agreed, and they stood in a circle and joined their hands together. Closing their eyes, they concentrated on not just restoring the life to the trees that surrounded them but causing them to bloom as well. It took a moment, but then Jensen felt the power kick in, like a vine growing fiercely through his chest, down through his feet to root in the soil and then spread to the trees around him. His body felt warm and his fingers tingled. Finally the power snapped and he jerked back, pulling his hands away from Jared and Genevieve and opening his eyes. The trees around them were in full, glorious bloom. A gentle breeze blew through the wood, catching some of the petals and pulling them to the ground.  
  
The villagers gasped and looked at the trees, mouths agape. Then the blond man smiled and stretched his arms out wide.  
  
“They’re right, the curse is lifted! The curse is  _finally_  lifted! We have to inform everyone right away!” Here he turned to the four travelers. “Welcome to our village. My name is Chad – I run the inn here – and you are going to be officially welcomed as heroes. Come!”

* * *

  
  
Welcomed as heroes was an understatement – the entire town practically shut down and started planning festivities. They introduced themselves and were introduced to nearly every villager. Lanterns were strung from building to building and lit, and animals were slaughtered for a feast.  
  
It was a bit surreal. Jensen was led about the town, along with his companions and given wine and food and music. The villagers noticed Jensen’s lute and asked for a song, which of course he had Alona, Jared and Genevieve join in. He chose a lighthearted song that set everyone to dancing.  
  
Finally as the sun was setting the innkeeper – and what a dismal business that must have been in this town – invited them to stay at his inn, free of charge of course. It had been a long day and so the four took him up on his offer, and soon they each found themselves in their own comfortable room.  
  
Jensen yawned and stretched. It had been entirely too long since he slept in a bed. He couldn’t believe their quest was nearly over. Probably tomorrow they’d set out to find the Pool of Restoration and get their memories back.  
  
The thought of that dampened Jensen’s mood just a bit, as it always did. Part of him wished they could just stay the way they were – four traveling friends off on adventures, making new friends, flying in airships and lifting curses from forests. It was a good life so far.  
  
Maybe the Oracle had been wrong. Maybe they would all be successful. How could they come so close and fail now? He didn’t want to think about it. Jensen removed his clothes and put on his nightshirt before going to the window and opening it. It felt wrong somehow, to be this melancholy after a festival. He leaned on the sill and stared up at the stars. They twinkled merrily overhead, heedless of time and space, or at least heedless of Jensen’s problems.  
  
He closed the window and turned to his bed, intent on getting a good night’s sleep. He’d reached the bed and pulled down the duvet when he heard a knock on his door. Sighing, Jensen opened it only to be met with Jared, standing there in his own nightshirt.  
  
“May I come in?” Jared asked, sounding strangely shy.  
  
“Of course,” Jensen said. “Don’t you want to sleep in your own room?”  
  
“There’s too much room in there,” Jared admitted. He sounded adorably sheepish. “I guess I’m used to sharing my space now and I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I joined you.”  
  
“No, of course not,” Jensen responded as he made his way back to the bed. “I was feeling a little melancholy myself; I’ll be glad for the company. Blow out the candle?”  
  
Jared did as he was asked before carefully making his way to the bed. Jensen heard him stop and set something on the bedside table, but it was too dark to see and the next thing he knew Jared had climbed into the bed next to him.  
  
“Jensen?” Jared whispered into the darkness. “I was thinking about tomorrow, and how we’re nearing the end of our quest, and – ah, to the depths with it.”  
  
The bed frame complained as Jared rolled over, blanketing half of Jensen with his body. There, in the dark, Jared covered Jensen’s mouth with slow, lazy kisses until they both ran out of breath. Jared’s hand meandered from Jensen’s chest, to his hip and then to his bare thigh, Jared’s thumb rubbing small circles into the skin.  
  
Jensen felt himself start to harden as Jared’s hand traveled down his body, but Jared either didn’t feel it or was blatantly ignoring it despite his own arousal pressing into Jensen’s other thigh. Jensen reached down and rucked up Jared’s nightshirt and trailed his fingertips over Jared’s erection.  
Jared gasped and thrust forward, pre-come leaving a wet kiss on Jensen’s hand. Jensen used the opportunity to wrap his hand fully around Jared’s length and squeezed gently, wringing a moan from the other man.  
  
“Gods, Jared, don’t go slow. Not tonight. Tell me you brought something to ease the way. I want to do this now, and I don’t want it to take all night.”  
  
Jared chuckled. “You’re rather bossy sometimes, you know that?”  
  
“I kind of figured that out,” Jensen admitted with a shrug. “I can’t help it though – I know what I want. Now, are you going to fuck me or do I have to tie you down and do all the work myself?”  
  
“Gods, Jensen!” Jared groaned. “You shouldn’t talk like that or I’m liable to hurt you with how bad I want you.”  
  
“So take what you want,” Jensen murmured against Jared’s lips. Jared growled and rolled away to retrieve whatever it was he put on the bedside table and Jensen waited patiently while Jared did so. Jared resituated himself between Jensen’s legs and Jensen felt a small metal container rest against his thigh.  
  
“Spread your legs for me, Jensen,” Jared said, and Jensen did as he was told, trusting in Jared to take care of him. Jared leaned over long enough to kiss him, and while he did so Jared’s fingers delved into the cleft of Jensen’s buttocks and found his hole, circling it gently. It  _almost_ tickled, and Jensen gasped as his hips fought to jump away from the touch. At the same time, having Jared’s large fingers exploring him so intimately was incredibly arousing, and Jensen could’nt help the quiet gasps and moans that were falling from his mouth.  
  
Jared caught them with his own.  
  
Jared’s fingers disappeared, only to return with more oil as his finger pushed past Jensen’s rim and intruded his body. Jensen blinked and tried to catch his breath, and Jared held perfectly still while Jensen adjusted, but it was a strange feeling to have Jared’s finger inside him. Slowly, almost too slowly, Jared began the push and pull, in and out that would open Jensen up and enable him to accept Jared’s much larger manhood.  
  
It was just starting to feel good when Jared added another finger, repeating the process excruciatingly slowly.  
  
“That’s enough, Jared,” Jensen said, barely able to speak when Jared crooked his fingers just right to find a spot inside Jensen that only caused his pleasure to build and make Jensen crave more.  
  
“Am I hurting you?” Jared asked, concerned and misunderstanding Jensen’s intent.  
  
“No,” Jensen replied. “But I want you inside me sometime before daybreak. Do it now.”  
  
“Are you sure? You don’t feel ready yet.”  
  
“Yes, I’m sure,” Jensen said. He lifted his hips in blatant invitation and Jared moaned. His eyes having adjusted to the darkness, he could see Jared’s outline against the moonlight filtering in through the window, and watched as Jared slicked himself up with the oil before positioning the blunt head of his cock at Jensen’s entrance. He teased Jensen with it a little, rubbing it in circles around the rim in the same path Jared’s fingers had taken a little while ago.  
  
“You’re absolutely sure?” Jared asked again, and instead of answering Jensen hooked his feet together behind Jared and pulled him forward. It caused Jared to thrust inside Jensen none too gently and in one swift thrust Jared was fully seated inside Jensen.  
  
It was too much. Jensen felt like he was being split apart and for one crazy moment he thought he’d actually injured himself permanently, but then the burn started to subside. He started breathing again.  
  
“Jensen? Oh, Gods Jensen, did I hurt you?”  
  
Jensen felt Jared start to pull back, ever so slightly, and Jensen wasn’t about to let that happen.  
  
“Don’t you dare pull out of me right now,” Jensen commanded. “Just stay still for a moment.”  
  
Jared groaned but did as he was asked. Jared’s breathing was just as heavy and stilted as Jensen’s.  
  
“Alright, you can move now,” Jensen finally whispered. His arousal had returned once he realized that this was  _Jared_ inside him, strong, beautiful, boisterous Jared, and that they were as close as physically possible. Jared held himself above Jensen as he thrust, slow at first and then faster and harder, and Jensen met him thrust for thrust, their breathy moans and the creaking bed frame the only sounds they were aware of.  
  
Jared aimed his thrusts just right, hitting that spot inside of Jensen that caused the pressure to build, coiling tightly inside of him until he was nearly ready to burst. He needed more; he needed to come. He reached down with one hand and jacked himself as slowly as he could, not wanting to come too soon, but instinct won out and he stroked furiously, until he came with a gasp that almost sounded surprised.  
  
Above him, raining kisses on him as he came undone, Jared was speaking all manner of filth about how much he liked hearing Jensen, how he wished it were daylight so he could see Jensen, how it would taste to have Jensen come on his tongue so that Jensen could then taste himself. Jensen’s spent cock pulsed out one more pathetic stream of come at that and Jensen went boneless, collapsing back on the bed with a sigh.  
  
Jared’s thrusts sped up now that he was chasing his own pleasure, still hitting that spot in Jensen that was now a little over-sensitive and each thrust almost felt electric now. Finally with a grunt, Jared came, deep inside Jensen, filling him with his seed.  
  
As before, they lay like that until their breathing calmed and Jared started to get heavy, at which point Jensen batted Jared off of him. Reaching down beside the bed, Jensen grabbed his shirt and used it to clean himself and Jared. Jared mumbled a nearly unintelligible thank you, and fell asleep almost immediately. Jensen smiled and curled up against Jared’s back.  
  
“I love you, you know,” Jensen said to Jared’s snores. “Even if you turn out to be the dragon, even if you’re a common foot soldier or a dryad or an avenging wizard, I’ll still love you.”  
  
Jensen felt Jared’s fingers entwine with his own.  
  
“I love you too, Jensen. No matter what.”


	14. Chapter 14

  
  
Tomorrow turned into the day after that, and the day after that turned into the day after  _that_ , until the festivities were well and truly over and the villagers were talking about starting work on a new road to travel through the Wraithwood. There was talk of renaming the forest to something more pleasant, but Jensen doubted the name change would stick. Everyone knew the forest as Wraithwood, it would take generations for the name to change.  
  
As the days passed, it became apparent to Jensen that they were procrastinating. As much as he didn’t mind it – every night Jared came to his room and they touched and kissed and learned what pleased the other most – Jensen felt like he was risking the people of this village more and more with each passing day. It would be a most cruel jest to lift the curse from the forest only to draw a Witherkin here.  
  
No, they had to go to the pool, whether they were content with the status quo or not, and so they packed up their things, consulted the map, and left the next morning.  
  
The path to the pool was easy enough to follow, despite cutting back into the Wraithwood and being nearly a half-day’s trek away. For the first time since they’d entered the Wraithwood they heard birdsong as they walked, which Genevieve happily pointed out.  
  
“I think I hear the ocean,” Genevieve said. “Listen.”  
  
They listened. Sure enough, they could hear the ocean, waves crashing against the rocks and cliffs.  
  
“The pool should be just ahead,” Jared said, looking closely at the map. “Just around this corner. Oh-“  
  
They rounded the corner and at once Jensen saw the cause of Jared’s surprise. There, coiled up and sleeping, was a large dragon.  
  
It was a magnificent creature, long and sleek with its giant wings tucked close as it napped. Jensen and his companions stopped and stared at it.  
  
“I don’t think it will eat us,” Genevieve whispered. “From what I remember about being a dragon, I don’t think they eat humans.”  
  
“Shhhh,” Jared whispered back. “Don’t wake it up. Back away slowly and we’ll think this through from a safe distance.”  
  
They did as Jared suggested, backing up and trying not make any loud noises that might rouse the sleeping beast. Once they had backed around the corner, Jensen rested against the large boulder that kept them out of the dragon’s view.  
  
“Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” Jensen said, casting a glance in the direction they’d just escaped from. Jared ran a hand through his hair, pushing the longish strands away from his face and behind his ear, where they’d stay for perhaps a moment or two. Jensen wasn’t sure why Jared bothered.  
  
“No, I wasn’t either,” Jared said. Alona crossed her arms over her chest and looked pensive.  
  
“What should we do?” asked Genevieve.  
  
“Shouldn’t there have been something marked on the map if there was a dragon?” Jensen fumed. “Something like  _Here be Dragons_  or something like that?”  
  
“I don’t think so, Jensen,” Jared said, walking to the edge of the boulder and peeking around the corner.  
  
“This is ridiculous,” said Alona. “We’re all part dragon too. Maybe we should just try to talk to it.” With that she strode out from behind the rock into the clearing where the dragon slept and shouted.  
  
“Hello! Would you mind waking up, please? We really need to get past you and you’re sleeping on the path!”  
  
“Alona! What in the depths—“ Genevieve ran out from behind the rock, followed closely by Jensen and Jared. Alona’s shouting had done the trick and the dragon was waking. Light blue eyes opened and warm breath huffed out of the dragon’s snout, blowing about the leaves and grass directly underneath its mouth.  
  
The dragon stretched like a cat, digging its claws into the earth before rising to its full height. It narrowed its eyes at the four people who stood in front of it, probably deciding whether or not to burn them into little crisps. Standing side by side, Jensen and the others held their ground, not wanting to back down.  
  
Perhaps this was it. Perhaps this dragon was the reason two of them wouldn’t finish the quest. It swung its head forward and sniffed each one of them individually, its breath rustling their clothing. Finally, it opened its mouth, sharp fanged teeth glistening, and spoke.  
  
“What do you need so desperately that you would brave the perils of the Wraithwood Forest? Don’t you know that this land is cursed?” The dragon’s voice was deep and rumbling, but the tone was soft – curious. Jensen, feeling emboldened, stepped forward, but Genevieve spoke before he could.  
  
“The land isn’t cursed,” she said, “at least, not anymore.”  
  
“Yes, little one, I gathered that. I saw the merriment in the village. I assume you had something to do with that? You destroyed Queen Alaina?”  
  
“Ah, er, yes,” said Jensen, hoping the dragon wasn’t in alliance with the dead dryad. “If you knew about her, you must have known that destroying her tree would destroy her and free the dryad souls.”  
  
“How long have you been in the forest?” Jared asked.  
  
“I’ve been in the forest a long time, little dragonlings,” it said. Jensen looked at his companions, wondering if they were as surprised by this as he was. Then again, he shouldn’t be surprised. After all, the sea dragon had scented them from _underwater_.  
  
“Why didn’t you lift the curse yourself, then?” Jared wanted to know. The dragon cast what could only be an amused smirk at him.  
  
“Presumptuous, aren’t you? I’ll tell you – it wasn’t my place. Human affairs and dragon affairs are rarely intermixed.”  
  
“That’s not true anymore, though,” Alona countered. “You know that’s not true.”  
  
“Sadly, yes,” the dragon said. “We are hunted down like beasts now. But that is not relevant to you four standing in front of me right now. Tell me, what is it that you are seeking?”  
  
“We need to find the Pool of Restoration,” Jensen said. “It’s a rather long story, but we need it to both restore our memories as well as stop the Witherkin from finding us.”  
  
The dragon plopped down on the ground, once more blocking their path.  
  
“I’ve got all the time in world,” the dragon said.

* * *

  
  
“That’s a very interesting tale,” the dragon said. “It does sound like you do need the Pool quite badly. I’ll take you there. It’s hidden from the world, you know. I’m the guardian of the pool – we can’t just have anyone walking up and partaking of the water.”  
  
“It’s rumored to be the fountain of youth,” Alona said, which caused the dragon to snort disdainfully.  
  
“If you’ll pardon me a moment, I cannot get into the pool in this form. Since you are a dragon split four ways, I’m sure it will not shock and surprise you too much if I transform into my human form?”  
  
The dragon didn’t wait for a response before positioning itself strategically behind a large boulder and shifting. A few moments later, a man appeared from behind the same boulder, fully dressed. He was shorter than both Jensen and Jared, and stocky, with shoulder-length brown hair and the same blue eyes as when in dragon form.  
  
“Follow me, unless you’d like to waste more time?” he said, motioning for them to follow.  
  
“Thank you,” Jared said. “What should we call you?”  
  
The dragon glanced back over his shoulder at Jared. “You can call me Christian,” he said. He led them further into the forest and closer to the sea, twisting and turning as the path necessitated. Finally they reached a part of the forest where the cliffs jutted up from the sea and continued inland, creating rocky crags and gullies in the earth. Christian led them onward until he stopped in front of what appeared to be a cave.  
  
“Another cave,” Alona groused, causing Christian to laugh.  
  
“Well, this isn’t exactly a cave,” Christian said. “It’s a tunnel that leads to the Pool. Come.”  
  
Jensen took a deep breath and followed the dragon into the cave. Unless there was a rockslide or this was all an elaborate trick by the dragon Jensen thought the Oracle must have been mistaken.  
  
The tunnel wasn’t very long and it ended in what at one point must have been a large sinkhole in the mountain side. The sinkhole must have happened very long ago, for the trees here were very old, covered in draping moss. There were trees growing out of older, decaying trees, their roots reaching around the older dead wood to firmly root in the earth, making the trees appear as if on stilts. They walked only a short while longer before they stopped in front of a large Pool of water, more like a pond, really. There were lily pads and all sorts of vegetation growing in the water, but the water itself was clear and clean.  
  
It looked inviting.  
  
“Here we are,” Christian said. “This is the Pool of Restoration. Who wants to go first?”  
  
Jensen, Jared, Alona and Genevieve all exchanged cautious, nervous glances. They were here. This was it. This was what they had sailed to Seagrave to find, what they had braved the ghosts of Wraithwood for.  
  
This was the end of their quest. Jensen should have felt overjoyed, so why did he feel melancholy. He stared at the Pool for what felt like a few long, long minutes, until he felt Jared grasp his hand.  
  
“No matter what, remember?” he said. Jensen felt his throat constrict, making words impossible. He nodded his head and felt a stinging sensation in his eyes. Was he about to cry? He bit the inside of his lip and told himself to man up.  
  
“I’ll go first.”  
  
It was Genevieve who’d spoken up. The dragon had backed away from their party, perhaps sensing that this was something they needed to face themselves. Genevieve pulled her hand from Alona’s – Jensen hadn’t noticed that they’d been holding hands to begin with – and stepped toward the pool. Now that she was merely a step away, she turned to Christian.  
  
“Do I just drink it, or do I need to immerse myself?” she asked.  
  
“Do what you feel you need to,” Christian said. “But you do need to imbibe at least a little of it for it to work. Just going for a swim isn’t going to help you out none.”  
  
Genevieve’s eyes narrowed a little at that, as if she didn’t appreciate the jest, and turned back towards the pool. Leaning down, she scooped up a handful of water and brought it to her lips, tilting her hands so the water ran into her mouth.  
  
She swallowed.  
  
The change was both gradual and sudden. From her fingertips her skin tone began to change, turning from a soft olive tone to a light, leafy green. The color change seemed to slide along her skin like she was putting on gloves, down her forearms to her elbows, where it sped up, racing over her body and causing her to gasp and drop the remaining droplets of water from her hands. When the green reached her hair another change overcame her, causing her hair to morph from the silky brunette strands into long, twisting vines that bloomed with leaves and small white blossoms. Her eyes remained unchanged, the deep, dark brown of them reminiscent of the soil of the earth.  
  
In retrospect, Jensen would wonder how he could have  _not_ realized that Genevieve was the dryad.  
  
She turned to face her friends, the expression on her face one of shock and wonderment.  
  
“I’m a dryad,” she said, stretching her arms in front of her and looking at the changes. “Oh, my forest. I’m much too far away from it. I can feel my tree calling for me. I have to go. I’ll – I’ll miss you. I’ll miss you all.” She wiped at her eyes, obviously overcome with emotion. “Alona – I-“  
  
Alona walked over to Genevieve with determination and embraced her firmly before placing a kiss on her forehead.  
  
“It’s alright, Gen,” Alona said. “You are the way you were meant to be. Remember? Remember your mother tree? How happy it made you to run through the forest? You have all that back now. I’ll come visit you, I promise.”  
  
Jensen tried to access those memories, but they were vague, not his. It was as if he had a memory of a memory. He tried to connect with the earth underneath him and felt nothing but the sensation in his feet. He was cut off, Genevieve had taken back what was hers. Jensen felt a little bereft.  
  
“You promise?” Genevieve sniffed, grasping Alona’s shirt in her fist and burying her face on Alona’s shoulder. Jensen felt a pang in his own heart. He would make sure to visit Genevieve as well.  
  
“I’ll miss you too, Genevieve,” Jared said, sounding a little choked up. Genevieve pulled herself from Alona’s embrace and walked over to Jensen and Jared, embracing them each in turn.  
  
“Goodbye,” she said. “You’ll come visit too, right? Both of you?”  
  
“Of course,” Jensen said, annoyed at how rough his voice sounded.  
  
Genevieve nodded and then closed her eyes. With that a breeze sprang up and her body  _disintegrated_ , blowing away on the wind.  
  
“Gen!” Alona cried out in alarm.  
  
“She’s alright,” Christian said. “That’s how dryads travel. She’ll be back in her forest before you know it.”  
  
“I’m going next,” Alona declared, positively stomping over to the pool. She plunged into it up to her waist before cupping her hands and bringing the water to her lips to drink, which she did quickly.  
  
She stilled, waiting for a change to overtake her, if any. Nothing appeared to happen. She stayed in the Pool for what seemed to be a long while before turning back around to face Jared and Jensen, and when she did her eyes were filled with tears.  
  
“Alona, what is it? What’s wrong?” Jared looked about ready to dive into the pool himself to save her from whatever it was that had her so upset, but she shook her head and walked back to shore.  
  
“Did nothing change?” Jensen asked, concerned. Alona held out her hand, palm up, and a flame blossomed there, soon taking the shape of a flower which then dissolved back into her hand.  
  
“I’m – I’m the  _wizard_ ,” she said. “Or actually, I prefer the term mage since I’m not a man, but, but – Oh Gods.” She turned to face Christian, the tears that had been threatening to spill finally tracing paths down her cheeks. “I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know that dragons were sentient. I thought,” here she paused and looked at the ground, taking deep, shuddering breaths, “I thought I was saving the world. I killed so many, and my army – I led them to their deaths!”  
  
“Hey now, calm down,” said Jared, holding a hand out. He looked like he wanted to embrace her, but Alona took a step backwards.  
  
“I’ll be alright,” she said, visibly calming. “I just need to come to terms with it – that’s all. I’ll be alright, you’ll see. Christian, I—“  
  
“Don’t apologize to me,” Christian said. “It is not my place to judge you. I don’t know your story and I’ve been here for a very long time.” Christian’s face was a mask of stoicism and his eyes were cold, and Jensen wondered how sincere his words really were. He turned back to Alona. She’d moved farther away from them, finding a fallen tree and making a seat for herself on it. Tears were still escaping her eyes, but she didn’t seem like she was going to break down sobbing anytime soon.  
  
“That means –“ Jensen couldn’t finish his sentence.  
  
“That means one of us is a dragon,” Jared said, stepping closer to Jensen. He took both of Jensen’s hands in his own and leaned forward to kiss him.  
  
Neither man closed their eyes as their lips met; neither wanted to look away when they didn’t know what would happen next.  
  
“I’ll go,” Jared said, releasing Jensen’s hands and walking hesitantly toward the Pool. Jensen bit his lip and tried to stomp down the emotions he felt as he watched Jared walk away.  
  
Jared didn’t immerse himself in the pool. Instead, he knelt down on one knee and dipped his hand into the water, bringing it to his mouth and taking a long draught. He held it in his mouth for a moment before swallowing, and Jensen watched Jared’s throat work as he took the water into himself.  
  
Jared’s breathing grew shallow and quick, and his eyes widened. In the next moment he was stripping off his clothes, and just in time too, for his body shifted and grew, and in place of the Jared that Jensen knew and had grown to love was a large dragon, even larger than Christian in his dragon form. Eyes seemed to be a constant thing, Jensen noticed, as he looked up into the familiar hazel depths.  
Jared roared, tipped his head back and shot flames into the sky. Then, with a great flap of his wings he was skyward, flying and cart wheeling through the air in a joyous dance before alighting on the ground again next to the Pool and shifting back into Jared. No, Jensen corrected himself, before shifting into Jared’s human form. They were both Jared.  
  
And with that, Jensen realized who he was.  
  
Jensen was the soldier.  
  
Jensen was the child of the distant father, the soldier who’d followed Alona on the quest to eradicate dragons just to escape the dreary future that faced him in his hometown.  
  
Jensen was the only soldier to escape the grisly fate of his compatriots in the forest.  
  
With his next breath, Jensen decided not to partake of the Pool of Restoration.  
  
His memories were foggy, but they were most certainly his. He knew if he partook of the water that they would solidify and become crystal clear, and then all the memories that he wanted to escape would once more haunt him.  
  
He’d see clearly the dead eyes of the dragon child, the open, slack mouth that cried wordlessly for his corpse mother. Jensen shuddered. Yes, he’d tried to save them – they were a mother and child for Veris’ sake – and had been whipped severely for his treason. That incident hadn’t been reported to the wizard – to Alona. The soldiers in control of that debacle had acted as if Jensen owed them a favor for it. Now Jensen wondered if it was because even Alona wouldn’t have approved of what had happened.  
  
Jensen knew that if he drank that water the scars from that day would return as well, deep welts of tissue criss-crossing his back and forever reminding him of the horrors of that day.  
No. No, Jensen decided. This was his chance at a fresh start. He would be alright as he was. There was no more chaotic magic in him, not now, nothing to draw the Witherkin to him and threaten any new friends he might make.  
  
It startled him when he felt Jared’s arms enfold him, drawing him close, and that sealed it. This was where he was meant to be. This was where the end of his quest lay, here in Jared’s arms. Jared. His dragon.  
  
“Jensen, it’s your turn,” Jared said softly.  
  
“No,” Jensen said. “The Pool isn’t meant for me, Jared. It never was. It’s me. I don’t complete the quest.”  
  
Fire flashed in Jared’s eyes, followed by confusion. Jensen didn’t say anything, just pulled Jared in for a gentle kiss.  
  
“It’s my choice, Jared,” Jensen said when he ended the kiss. Jared searched Jensen’s eyes as if searching for confirmation that this was the right choice. “It’s better for me if I don’t. Please just trust me on this. Remember what we said: No matter what.”  
  
“And I meant it, too,” Jared said. “I love you. Do you still love me – even though I’m a dragon?”  
  
“You’re a dragon,” Jensen repeated, the reality of the situation settling in on his shoulders. “It’s unreal, but yes, you’re a dragon.” Jensen fought back the urge to laugh. He knew he’d sound like he was losing his mind if he did. “It’s alright. You’re still Jared, yes?”  
  
“Yes, I’m still Jared,” Jared said with a smile. “I’ll always be Jared.”  
  
“Jared, if I may have a moment,” Christian said from a few paces away. Jared disentangled himself from Jensen and walked over to Christian, who drew Jared further enough away so that Jensen couldn’t hear what was being said. Jensen supposed it was dragon business and so he walked over to Alona and sat next to her. He placed a hand on her shoulder.  
  
“Are you alright?” he asked. Alona turned to face him and a wan smile showed on her face.  
  
“Yes, I’m alright,” she said. “I can’t believe this is it, you know? That our quest is over. Gen’s back in her forest, or at least on her way, Jared’s a  _dragon_ , can you believe that? A real, live  _dragon_. Does that make you his mate?”  
  
The corners of Alona’s mouth twitched up a little further, showing some of the spark that Jensen was used to seeing, and he returned the smile.  
  
“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe. Do you think I’m a coward for not drinking the water?”  
  
Alona looked startled at the change of subject, but then her expression softened.  
  
“Jensen, I think we all know that the soldier, I mean,” Alona’s normally confident tone stuttered and she looked at him with sad eyes. “I think we all knew back when we shared memories that whoever the soldier amongst us was that he or she got the short end of the stick. From what we remembered, your life was pretty awful. I don’t blame you for not wanting to remember it.”  
  
“So you don’t think I’m a coward?”  
  
Alona sighed but then smiled, a little wistfully.  
  
“No, I think you’re pretty brave, actually.”  
  
“Brave?” Jensen scoffed.  
  
“Yeah,” she affirmed. “You’re choosing to keep facing the unknown – to start over, from scratch. I almost wish I’d done the same. I’m not going back to hunting dragons. Not after knowing J- I mean, not after this.”  
  
Jensen nodded. “So it’s us then,” he mused. “We’re the two that didn’t complete the quest. The oracle foretold correctly after all.”  
  
“Oh, to the depths with that old bag,” Alona muttered. “I still say we completed the quest. I mean, none of us died.”  
  
Jensen couldn’t help but laugh at Alona calling the oracle an old bag. Adrianne had been anything but that. Alona snickered as well and soon they were laughing together.  
  
Jared turned to face them, obviously curious about what they were talking about, but Christian drew his attention back to him again and they continued talking for a few minutes. Then Jared walked over to Jensen, a serious look on his face.  
  
“Jensen,” Jared said. “I can’t stay here with you – not right away at least. I just had a long talk with Christian, and I’m going to tell you about it because I’m not just going to take to the skies and abandon you.” Jared tossed a glare over his shoulder at the other dragon.  
  
“You know that when I came here it was as a trap for Alona’s army.” Here Jared winced and glanced over at Alona, but she waved her hand dismissively for him to continue.  
  
“It’s in the past,” she said. “Let’s just agree that we’re friends now and not try to kill each other in the future. Deal?”  
  
“Deal,” Jared agreed wholeheartedly before turning back to Jensen. “Anyway, if the trap failed and if Alona’s army prevailed, the dragon elders were going to form an army of their own and systematically subjugate the human race. It was our last chance at preservation. I have to fly back to the Mainland and let them know the threat is eliminated. I want to talk to them about educating the human race about dragons as well. I think it’s time that we’re seen as more than beasts, and well, it might take a couple of weeks, and I can’t take you with me. Will you wait for me, Jensen?”  
  
Jensen blinked as he processed all the information Jared had just dumped on him and then shook his head to clear his thoughts. Jared looked crestfallen and Jensen realized what his gesture would look like to Jared.  
  
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Jensen said. “I mean, yes, I’ll wait for you. Just promise me you’ll hurry back, alright?”  
  
“I promise,” Jared said, kissing Jensen soundly and then stepping back to shift once more into his dragon form.  
  
“Wait, right now?” Jensen cried as Jared flapped his wings to take flight. Jared’s eyes were sad as he nodded and left the ground, leaving Jensen watching the horizon long after Jared disappeared.


	15. Epilogue

  
  
It took a few weeks to get settled. The villagers directed Jensen to an abandoned little cabin just outside of the forest, on the outskirts of their town. Alona decided not to stay, saying that there was business down south that needed attending to – a certain mayor to pay a visit to and put in his place, although Jensen was pretty sure she just wanted to see Genevieve. He briefly considered going with her, but when all was said and done the one he really wanted to see was Jared.  
  
Oftentimes he’d stop working (he’d found employment doing manual labor clearing the road through the forest) and let his gaze trace over the sky, looking for a dragon.  
  
None came and eventually Jensen gave up hope.  
  
Summer waned and gave way to Autumn, and the village was soon blanketed in snow. The villagers had been kind to Jensen, sharing canned goods and food for the winter until he had more than enough to last until the spring. The new road through the forest would probably be completed before next summer, and everyone in the village was excited for it. Jensen contemplated leaving, but he was fairly sure he’d spend the rest of his days in this village where he’d been so warmly accepted.  
  
Soon enough spring came and Jensen was back to work in Wraithwood, working on building the road. It was nearing summer again when Jensen came home after a long hot day in the forest to find Jared waiting for him on the porch of his little house.  
  
He blinked. Once. Twice.  
  
It wasn’t an illusion; Jared was really there. Jensen couldn’t hide the smile that lit up his face as he fought his exhaustion and ran the rest of the way to the house, where Jared enveloped him in a near bone-crushing embrace.  
  
“I didn’t think you were coming back,” Jensen breathed into the skin of Jared’s neck. “I thought you’d found something better.”  
  
“Better than  _you_?” Jared teased, and hearing Jared’s voice that close to his ear once more, so close, jump-started his libido. “Tell me,” Jared continued, “did you lose your mind in the months that I was gone?”  
  
“Possibly,” Jensen said. “Perhaps you can help me find it again.” With that he looped his arms around Jared’s neck and their lips slotted together perfectly, as if they couldn’t ever forget how, as if no time had passed. In the next second tongues tangled, remapping each other’s mouths as they desperately tried to press closer together than they already were.  
  
“Bedroom,” Jensen panted. “Now.”  
  
“But don’t you want to hear about my—“  
  
“After,” Jensen demanded, leading Jared inside. “You can tell me all about it after.”  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You made it through the whole thing?! Yay! Thank you soo much for reading. I hope you liked it. Comments are amazing and constructive criticism is welcomed with open arms! Did you love it? Did you hate it (and if you hated it, maybe let me know what bugged you about it)? Did you guess who was who? 
> 
> First of all, I have to say a huge thank you to my beta, Bumblebat79, for putting up with me for the second year in a row as I descended into the madness that is penning a Big Bang. You rock!
> 
> Secondly, Thank you Skeletncloset for unfailingly cheering me on and allowing me to bounce ideas off her. You are awesome!
> 
> Beelikej made absolutely gorgeous art for this story! Please go leave her much-deserved love! Thank you so much for picking my story and lending me your wonderful talents. I couldn't ask for a better artist!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who cheered me on during the writing of this! When I first set out to write Amnesia!fic meets Fantasy!AU I had no idea of the direction it would take. It's been a fun ride. I tried to avoid the normal fantasy tropes of one large continent set in vaguely medieval times, so we ended up with an archipelago of islands with a vague almost-steampunk vibe to it. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it!
> 
> And of course thank you to the mods of spn_j2_bigbang for running this challenge year after year, and to the mods at omgspnbigbang, without them and their eleventh hour speed-writing challenges this fic would not have been finished on time!


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